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MEMOIRS 


COUNT  QRAMMONT 


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// 


Mbmoirs 

OF 

Count  Grammont 

BY 

COUNT  ANTHONY  HAMILTON 


TRANSLATED  WITH  NOTES  BY  HORACE  WALPOLE 

WITH 

ADDITIONAL  NOTES  AND  BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCHES 

BY  SIR  WALTER   SCOTT  AND  MRS.  ANNA  JAMESON 

With  Portraits  (if  Hie  "  Windsor  lieaiitics,"  ami  Other  llhistralious 

PHILADELPHIA 

GEBBIE  &  CO.,  Publishers 
1888 

441 
1686 


Copyrighted,  iS88,  by  Gebbiic  &.  Co. 


PUBLISHERS'  PREFACE. 


The  editions  of  "  Grammont's  Memoirs"  published 
since  their  first  appearance  in  France  in  17 13  have  not 
been  numerous,  not  more  than  half  a  dozen  new  editions 
having  been  printed,  although  the  work  has  always  been 
ranked  as  a  standard  of  the  first  class. 

The  justly  acquired  popularity  of  this  graphic  picture 
of  "  The  Times  of  Charles  II."  has  kept  steadily  on  the 
increase,  which  fact  has  now  induced  the  publishers  to 
submit  for  public  patronage  an  edition  embellished  with 
all  the  distinguished  excellencies  of  all  editions  hitherto 
published — notes,  introductions  and  illustrations.  In 
the  matter  of  illustrations  the  work  is  peculiarly  adapted 
for  interesting  embellishment,  because  of  the  great  niun- 
ber  of  historical  personages  named  ;  and  therefore, 
selecting  their  best  from  Kneller,  I^ely,  Scriven,  Mrs. 
Jameson,  and  other  sources,  we  have  presented  the  reader 
with  a  Gallery  of  the  "  Grammont  Memoirs  "  characters, 
such  as  has  never  before  been  published.  We  have  added 
twenty-six  modern  illustrations  by  Delort,  recently 
published  in  Paris,  and,  give  in  all  about  forty  authen- 
tic portraits  on  steel  and  wood,  together  with  the  inter- 
esting illustrations  of  costume  and  character,  by  Delort, 

(V) 


vi  publishers'  preface. 

referred  to  above.  The  celebrated  "Windsor  Beauties" 
we  have  had  photogravured  expressly  for  this  work. 
We  think  it  might  be  pleasing,  to  the  curious  in  matters 
of  illustration,  to  give  a  quotation  from  Horace  Wal- 
pole's  Anecdotes  of  Painting:  "The  'Beauties  of  Wind- 
sor '  are  the  Court  of  Paphos,  and  ought  to  be  en- 
graved for  the  memoirs  of  its  charming  biographer, 
Count  Hamilton."  Strange!  that  more  than  a  hundred 
years  should  have  been  allowed  to  elapse  before  Wal- 
pole's  sensible  suggestion  has  been  put  into  effect, 
as  we  have  now  done. 

Hamilton's  Memoirs  of  Count  de  Grammont  end  so 
abruptly  that  we  have,  in  order  to  finish  the  stor>-,  laid 
Mrs.  Jameson's  "  Beauties  of  the  Court  of  Charles  the 
Second"  under  contribution  for  three  biographies,  in 
the  shape  of  an  appendix,  which,  with  the  three  portraits, 
Lawson,  Bellasys  and  Portsmouth,  bring  the  reigns  of 
Charles  II.  and  James  II.  to  a  close,  and  the  story  to  a 
satisfactory  conclusion. 

Gebbie  &  Co. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Biographical  Sketch  of  Anthony  Hamilton  .  .  .  i 
Epistle  to  the  Count  de  Grammont    .      .      ,      .      .  i6 


CHAPTER  L 

Grammont  and  his  servant  are  introduced  31 

CHAPTER  11. 

Arrival  of  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  at  the  siege  of  Triiio,  and 
his  general  life      ..........  35 

CHAPTER  HI. 

Experience  and  adventures  of  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  before 
his  arrival  at  the  siege  of  Trino    .......  42 

CHAPTER  IV. 

His  arrival  at  the  Court  of  Turin  and  descrii^tion  of  how  he  passed 
his  time         ...........  59 

CHAPTER  V. 

His  return  to  the  Court  of  France.  His  adventures  at  the  siege 
of  Arras.  His  response  to  Cardinal  Mazarin  and  his  exile  from 
the  Court  of  France  86 

CHAPTER  VL 

His  arrival  at  the  Court  of  England.  Character  of  the  personages 
composing  the  Court  109 

CHAPTER  VII. 

He  falls  in  love  with  Miss  Hamilton,  describes  various  adventures 
at  a  ball  to  the  Queen,  and  the  curious  journey  of  his  valet  to 

Paris  141 

(vii3 


viii 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  burlesque  story  of  liis  Chaplain  Poussatin.  Description  of 
the  siege  of  Lerida.  Marriage  of  the  Duke  of  York  with  Miss 
Hj  de  and  other  particulars  of  the  Court  of  England        .  -175 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Various  intrigues  and  love  affairs  of  the  Court  of  England   .       .  212 

CHAPTER  X. 

other  intrigues  and  love  affairs  of  the  Court  of  England      .       .  269 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Return  of  the  Chevalier  de  Gratnniont  to  the  Court  of  France,  his 
reminiscences  of  the  English  Court,  and  various  intrigues  and 
love  affairs  of  some  of  the  personages  mentioned  in  his  memoirs, 


and  of  the  Court  generally   323 

APPENDIX. 

Mrs.  Lawson — Mistress  of  Charles  II   369 

Susan  Armine  (Lady  Bellasys) — Mistress  of  the  Duke  of  York    .  372 

Louise  de  Qudroualle  (Duchess  of  Portsmouth) — Mistress  of  the 

Duke  of  York   380 


LIST  OF  THE  WINDSOR  BEAUTIES  SERIES. 

Painted  by  Sir  Peter  Lely  and  others,  copied  from  3frs.  ylnne  Jame- 
son's "Beauties  of  the  Court  of  Charles  //. " 


Charles  II.  (from  the  paintinff  by  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller.)  Frontispiece. 


James  II.    {from  the  painting  by  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller)      .       .  369 


Barbara,  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  Lady  Castlemaine  ...  96 
Queen  Katherine  of  Braganza,  Queeu  of  Charles  II.      .       .  -113 

Enielia,  Countess  of  Ossory   118 

Miss  Hamilton,  Countess  of  Gramniout   141 

Mrs.  Middleton,  Maid  of  Honor   144 

Anne,  Countess  of  Southesk                                                      .  192 

Elizabeth,  Lady  Denham   208 

Elizabeth,  Countess  of  Chesterfield   224 

Frances  Stewart,  Duchess  of  Richmond   240 

Elizabeth  Bagot,  Countess  of  Falmouth   253 

Miss  Jennings,  Maid  of  Honor   288 

Nell  Gwyn,  Mistress  of  Charles  II.   352 

IMrs.  Lawson,  Mistress  of  Charles  II   370 

Susan  Armine,  Lady  Bellasj's,  Mistress  of  Duke  of  York      .       .  376 

Louise  de  Queroualle,  Duchess  of  Portsmouth      ....  384 


(ix) 


LIST  OF  FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Photogravured  by  the  Gebbie  &  Husson  Photogravure  Co.  from 
Designs  by  C-  Delort. 


Grammont's  Departure  from  his  Ancestral  Home     .       .  page  45 

Arrival  at  the  Siege  of  Triiio   "  36 

Grammout  Meets  a  "  Couiitr\  niau  "  First  Day  Out  .       .  "  49 

At  the  Court  of  Turin  "  .  "  60 

The  Queen  Embraces  Grammont  before  the  Court  of 

France   "  102 

Lady  Shrewsbury  and  Jermyn  at  Spring  Garden      .       .  "  138 

The  Ball   155 

Miss  Stewart's  Display  of  Legs   "  202 

Miss  Hobart  and  Miss  Temple  Cooling  Off       ..."  260 

Miss  Jennings,  Miss  Price,  and  Hrounker — an  Adventure  "  295 

The  King  finds  Richmond  in  Miss  Stewart's  Bed-chamber  "  358 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  TEXT 


Cavalier  of  the  Period         ....       {C.  Delorl)  Title  page. 

Count  Anthony  Hamilton   {£.  Scriven)  i 

Confab  at  the  Inn   (C.  Delort)  15 

Count  de  Gramniont   {E.  Scriven)  16 

St.  Evremond   {E.  Scriven)  30 

Grammont  and  his  Servant  Arrive  at  the  Inn — 

First  Night  from  Home        .       .       .       .  (C  Delort)  31 

Louis  XIV   {E.  Scriven)  34 

Grammont's  Arrival  at  the  Siege  of  Trino         .  (C  Delort)  35 

Marshal  de  Turenne   {E.  Scriven)  41 

Grammont  Consults  with  his  Maitre  d' Hotel     .  {C.  Delort)  42 

The  Prince  de  Conde   [E.  Scriven)  58 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  at  Arras        .       .  {C-  Delort)  59 

Anne  of  Austria,  Mother  of  Louis  XIV.  .  .  {E.  Scriven)  85 
Grammont  Meets  the  Duke  d'Arscot,  the  Baron 

de   Limbec,    Louvigny  and  others  before 

Arras   iC.  Delort)  86 

Mrs.  Hyde,  Sister-in-law  to  the  Duchess  of  York  (£".  Scrii'en)  loS 

The  Duel  between  Jermyn  and  Howard      .       .  {C.  Delort)  109 

Jacob  Hall   [E.  Scrii'en)  140 

On  the  Bank  of  the  Thames  ....  (C  Delort)  141 
The  Queen  Dowager  Marie  Henrietta,  Widow 

of  Charles  I.    (E.  Scriven)  174 

The  Dance  of  Chaplain  Poussatin  before  the 

Ladies  of  the  French  Court          .       .       .  (C-  Delort)  1 75 

Lady  Robarts   {E.  Scriven)  211 

The  Duke  of  York  and  Lady  Chesterfield  .       .  [C.  Delort)  212 

Miss  Temple,  Maid  of  Honor      ....  [E.  Scriven)  255 

Mary  Kirk  (Miss  Warmestre),  Maid  of  Honor   .  (E.  Scriven)  268 

(xi) 


xii 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  TKXT. 


Miss  Jennings  and  Miss  Price,  Maids  of  Honor, 
disguised  as  orange-girls,  encounter  Kille- 

grevv   {C.  Delort)  269 

Miss  Price,  Maid  of  Honor   {E.  Scriven)  293 

Mrs.  Hughes,  Actress,  Mistress  of  Prince  Rupert  (/i.  Scrii'Cii)  307 

The  Countess  of  Shrewshurj'  ....  (A".  Scriven)  322 
Return  of  the  Chevalier  de  Graninionl  to  the 

Court  of  France   {C  Dclort)  323 

The  Duchess  of  Buckingham      ....  (/i.  Scriven)  339 
Mrs.  Davis,  Actress,  Mistress  of  Charles  II.       .  (/:.  Scrii'e/i)  355 
Lucj-  Barlow  (otherwise  Waters),  First  Mistress 
of  Charles  11.,  Mother  of  the  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth   {/T.  Scriven)  367 

St.  James  Park,  16S0           ....    {from  an  old  print)  369 

The  Earl  of  Chesterfield   [E.  Scriven)  371 

Cleveland  House,  Residence  of  the  Duchess  of 

Cleveland,  1680  [from  an  old  print)  372 

The  Earl  of  Rochester   {E.  Scriven)  379 

St.  James  Palace,  1690         ....    {from  an  old  print)  380 

Ann  Hyde,  Duchess  of  York       ....  {E.  Scriven)  402 


PORTRAIT  OF  COUNT  ANTHONY  HAMII,TON. 

BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH 

OF 

ANTHONY  HAMILTON. 


Of  Anthony  Hamilton,  the  celebrated  aiithor  of  the 
Grammont*  Memoirs,  much  cannot  now  be  with  cer- 
tainty known.  The  accounts  prefixed  to  the  different 
editions  of  his  works,  down  to  the  year  1805,  are  very 
imperfect  ;  in  that  year  a  new  and,  in  general,  far  better 
edition  than  any  of  the  preceding  ones  was  published 
in  Paris,  to  which  a  sketch  of  his  life  was  also  added ; 


*  For  uniformity's  sake  the  writer  of  this  sketch  has  followed  the 
Memoirs  iu  the  spelling  of  this  name  ;  but  he  thinks  it  necessary  to 
observe  that  it  should  be  Gramout,  not  Grammont. 

(1) 


2  BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF 

but  it  contains  rather  just  criticisms  on  his  works,  than 
any  very  novel  or  satisfactory  anecdote  concerning  liini- 
self.  It  is  not  pretended  here  to  gratify  literary  curiosity 
as  fully  as  it  ought  to  be,  with  regard  to  this  singular 
and  very  ingenious  man  ;  some  effort,  however,  ma)-  be 
made  to  communicate  a  few  more  particulars  relative  to 
him,  than  the  pnljlic  has  hitherto,  perhaps,  been  ac- 
quainted with. 

Anthony  Hamilton  was  of  the  noble  family  of  that 
name  :  Sir  George  Hamilton,  his  father,  was  a  younger 
son  of  James,  Earl  of  Abercorn,  a  native  of  Scotland. 
His  mother  was  daughter  of  Lord  Tluirles,  and  sister 
to  James,  the  first  Duke  of  Ormond  ;  his  family  and 
connections  therefore,  on  the  maternal  side,  were  en- 
tirely Irish.  He  was,  as  well  as  his  brothers  and  sisters, 
born  in  Ireland,  it  is  generally  said,  about  the  year  1646  ; 
but  there  is  some  reason  to  imagine  that  it  was  three 
or  four  years  earlier.  The  place  of  his  birth,  according 
to  the  best  family  accounts,  was  Roscrea,  in  the  county 
of  Tipperary,  the  usual  residence  of  his  father  when  not 
engaged  by  military  or  public  business.*  It  has  been 
alwaj-s  said  that  the  family  migrated  to  France  when 
Anthony  was  an  infant ;  but  this  is  not  the  fact  :  "  vSir 
George  Hamilton,"  says  Carte,  "would  have  accom- 
panied his  brother-in-law,  the  Marquis  of  Ormond,  to 
France,  in  December,  1650  :  but,  as  he  was  receiver- 
general  in  Ireland,  he  stayed  to  pass  his  accounts, 
which  he  did  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties,  notwith- 


*  In  September,  1646,  Owen  O'Neale  look  Roscrea,  and,  as  Carte 
says,  "put  man,  -woman,  and  child  to  the  sword,  except  .SVr  George 
Hamilto7V s  lady,  sister  to  the  Marquis  of  Ormond,  and  some  few 
gentlewomen  whom  he  kept  prisoners."  No  family  suffered  more  in 
those  disastrous  times  than  the  house  of  Ormond.  Lady  Hamilton 
died  in  August,  1680,  as  apjiears  from  an  interesting  and  affecting 
letter  of  her  brother,  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  dated  Carrick,  Augu.st 
251I1.  He.  hail  lost  his  noble  son.  Lord  Ossory,  not  three  weeks 
before. 


ANTHONY  HAMILTON. 


3 


standing  much  clamor  had  been  raised  against  him." 
When  that  business  was  settled,  he,  in  the  spring  of 
1651,  took  Lady  Hamilton  and  all  his  family  to  France, 
and  resided  with  Lord  and  Lad)-  Ormond,  near  Caen, 
in  Normandy,*  in  great  poverty  and  distress,  till  the 
Marchioness  of  Ormond,  a  lady  whose  mind  was  as  ex- 
alted as  her  birth,  went  over  to  England,  and,  after 
much  solicitation,  obtained  two  thousand  pounds  a  year 
from  her  own  and  her  husband's  different  estates  in 
Ireland.  This  favor  was  granted  her  by  Cromwell, 
who  always  professed  the  greatest  respect  for  her.  The 
]\Lirchioness  resided  in  Ireland,  with  the  younger  part 
of  her  family,  from  1655  till  after  the  Restoration  ;  while 
the  Marquis  of  Ormond  continued  for  a  considerable 
part  of  that  period  with  his  two  sisters.  Lady  Clancarty 
and  Lady  Hamilton,  at  the  Feuillatines,  in  the  Faubourg 
St.  Jacques,  in  Paris. 

It  appears  from  a  letter  of  the  Marquis  to  Sir  Robert 
Southwell,  that,  although  he  himself  was  educated  in 
the  Protestant  religion,  not  only  his  father  and  mother, 
but  all  his  brothers  and  sisters,  were  bred,  and  always 
continued,  Roman  Catholics.  Sir  George  Hamilton 
also,  according  to  Carte, f  was  a  Roman  Catholic;  An- 
thou}',  therefore,  was  bred  in  the  religion  of  liis  family, 
and  conscientiously  adhered  to  it  through  life.  He  en- 
tered early  into  the  army  of  Loiiis  XIV.,  as  did  his 
brothers  George,  Richard,  and  John,  the  former  of  whom 
introduced  the  company  of  English  gens  d'armes  into 
France  in  1667,  according  to  Le  Pere  Daniel,  author  of 
the  History  of  the  French  Army,  who  adds  the  follow- 
ing short  account  of  its  establishment  :  Charles  II.,  being 


*  Hence  possibly  Voltaire's  mistake  in  stating  that  Hamilton  was 
born  at  Caen,  in  bis  Ca/aloffue  dcs  Ecrivains  dit  Steele  de  Louis  XIV. 

t  That  historian  states  that  the  king  (Charles  I.)  deprived  several 
papists  of  their  military  commissions,  and,  among  others,  Sir  George 
Hamilton,  who,  notwithstanding,  ser\-ed  him  with  loyalty  and  un- 
varying fidelity. 


4 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF 


restored  to  his  throne,  brought  over  to  England  several 
Catholic  officers  and  soldiers  who  had  served  abroad  with 
him  and  his  brother,  the  Duke  of  York,  and  incorporated 
them  with  his  guards  ;  but  the  parliament  having  ob- 
liged him  to  dismiss  all  officers  who  were  Catholics, 
the  king  permitted  George  Hamilton  to  take  such  as 
were  willing  to  accompany  him  to  France,  where  Louis 
XIV.  formed  them  into  a  company  of  gens  d' amies, 
and  being  highly  pleased  with  them,  became  himself 
their  captain,  and  made  George  Hamilton  their  captain- 
lieutenant.*  Whether  Anthony  belonged  to  this  corps 
I  know  not  ;  but  this  is  certain,  that  he  distinguished 
himself  particularly  in  his  profession,  and  was  advanced 
to  considerable  posts  in  the  French  service,  f 

Anthony  Hamilton's  residence  was  now  almost  con- 
stantly in  France.  Some  years  previous  to  this  he  had 
been  much  in  England,  and,  towards  the  close  of 
Charles  H.'s  reign,  in  Ireland,  where  so  many  of  his 
connections  remained.!  When  James  II.  succeeded  to 
the  throne,  the  door  being  then  opened  to  the  Roman 
Catholics,  he  entered  into  the  Irish  army,  where  we  find 
him,  in  1686,  a  lieutenant-colonel  in  Sir  Thomas  New- 
comen's  regiment.  That  he  did  not  immediately  hold 
a  higher  rank  there,  may  perhaps  be  attributed  to  the 
recent  accession  of  the  king,  his  general  absence  from 
Ireland,  the  advanced  age  of  his  uncle,  the  Duke  of 
Ormond,  and,  more  than  all,  perhaps,  to  his  Grace's  early 
disapprobation  of  James's  conduct  in  Ireland,  which  dis- 
played itself  more  fully  afterwards,  especially  in  the 
ecclesiastical  promotions. 

*They  were  composed  of  English,  Scotch,  and  Irish. 

t  It  is  not  to  be  forgotten  that,  at  this  time,  John  Churchill,  after- 
wards Duke  of  Marlborough,  ser^'ed  under  Marshal  Turenne,  in  the 
same  army. 

X  Hamilton  had  three  sisters  :  the  Countess  of  Grammont ;  another 
married  to  Matthew  Forde,  Esq.,  of  the  county  of  Wexford  ;  and 
another  to  Sir  Donogh  O'Brien,  ancestor  to  the  present  Sir  Edward 
O'Brien — a  branch  of  the  Thomoud  family. 


ANTHONY  HAMII.TON. 


5 


Henry,  Earl  of  Clarendon,  son  to  the  lord-chancellor, 
was  at  that  time  lord-lieutenant  of  Ireland,  and  appears, 
notwithstanding:  his  g-eneral  distrust  and  dislike  of  the 
Catholics,  to  have  held  Anthony  Hamilton  in  much  esti- 
mation :  he  speaks  of  his  knowledge  of,  and  constant 
attention  to,  the  duties  of  his  profession  ;  his  probity, 
and  the  dependence  that  was  to  be  placed  on  him,  in 
preference  to  others  of  the  same  religious  persuasion, 
and,  in  October,  1686,  wrote  to  the  Earl  of  Sunderland 
respecting  him  as  follows  :  I  have  only  this  one  thing 
more  to  trouble  }-our  lordship  with  at  present,  concerning 
Colonel  Anthony  Hamilton,  to  get  him  a  commission  to 
command  as  colonel,  though  he  is  but  lieutenant-colonel 
to  Sir  Thomas  Newcomen,  in  regard  of  the  commands 
he  has  had  abroad:  and  I  am  told  it  is  often  done  in 
France,  which  makes  me  hope  it  will  not  be  counted 
an  unreasonable  request.  I  would  likewise  humbly  rec- 
commend  to  make  Colonel  Anthony  Hamilton  a  privy- 
councillor  here."  *  Lord  Clarendon's  recommendations 
were  ultimately  successful  :  Hamilton  was  made  a  priv}-- 
councillor  in  Ireland,  and  had  a  pension  of  ^^200  a 
year  on  the  Irish  establishment ;  and  was  appointed 
governor  of  Limerick,  in  the  room  of  Sir  William  King, 
notwithstanding  he  had  strongly  opposed  the  new-mod- 
elling of  the  army  by  the  furious  Tyrconnel.  In  the 
brief  accounts  which  have  been  given  of  his  life  it  is  said 
that  he  had  a  regiment  of  infantry  ;  but  though  this  is 
very  probable,  there  is  no  mention  whatever  of  his  com- 
manding a  regiment  in  the  lists  published  of  King  James's 
army,  which  are  supposed  to  be  very  accurate  :  he  is  in- 
deed set  down  among  the  general  officers.  Lord  Clar- 
endon, in  one  of  his  letters  to  the  lord-treasurer,  states  : 
"That  the  news  of  the  day  was  that  Colonel  Russell 
was  to  be  lieutenant-colonel  to  the  Duke  of  Ormond's 
regiment,  and  that  Colonel  Anthony  Hamilton  was  to 


*  Chapel-Izod,  July  11,  1686. 


6 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF 


have  Russell's  regiment,  and  that  Mr.  Luttrell  was  to  be 
lieutenant-colonel  to  Sir  Thomas  Newcomen,  in  the 
place  of  Anthony  Hamilton.* 

It  is  not  known  whether  Anfliony  was  present  at  the 
battle  of  the  Boyne,  or  of  Aughrim  :  his  brother  John 
was  killed  at  the  latter  ;  and  Richard,  who  was  a  lieu- 
tenant-general, led  on  the  cavalry  with  uncommon  gal- 
lantry and  spirit  at  the  Boyne  :  it  is  to  be  wished  that 
his  candor  and  integrity  had  equalled  his  courage  ;  but 
he  acted  with  great  duplicity  ;  and  King  William's 
contemptuous  echoing  back  his  word  to  him,  when  he 
declared  something  on  his  honor,  is  well  known.!  He 
is  frequently  mentioned  by  lyord  Clarendon,  but  by  no 
means  with  the  same  approbation  as  his  brother.  After 
the  total  overthrow  of  James's  affairs  in  Ireland,  the  two 
brothers  finally  quitted  these  kingdoms,  and  retired  to 
France.  Richard  lived  much  with  the  Cardinal  de 
Bouillon,  who  was  the  great  protector  of  the  Irish  in 
France,  and  kept  (what  must  have  been  indeed  highly 
consolatory  to  many  an  emigrant  of  condition)  a  magnif- 
icent table,  which  has  been  recorded  in  the  most  glowing 
and  grateful  terms,  by  that  gay  companion,  and  cele- 
brated lover  of  good  cheer,  Philippe  de  Coulanges,  who 
occasionally  mentions  the  "amiable  Richard  Hamil- 
ton":}: as  one  of  the  Cardinal's  particular  intimates. 
Anthony,  who  was  regarded  particularly  as  a  man  of 
letters  and  elegant  talents,  resided  almost  entirely  at  St. 
Germain  :  solitary  walks  in  the  forest  of  that  place 
occupied  his  leisure  hours  in  the  morning  ;  and  poetical 
pursuits,  or  agreeable  society,  engaged  the  evening:  but 
much  of  his  time  seems  to  have  rolled  heavily  along ;  his 
sister,  IVIadame  de  Grammont,  living  more  at  court,  or  in 
Paris,  than  always  suited  his  inclinations  or  his  conve- 
nience.   His  great  resource  at  St.  Germain  was  the 


*  Dublin  Castle,  October  23,  1686. 

t  This  anecdote  has  been  erroneously  recorded  of  Anthony. 
X  So  Coulanges  calls  him. 


ANTHONY  HAMILTON. 


7 


family  of  the  Duke  of  Berwick  (son  of  James  II.)  :  that 
nobleman  appears  to  have  been  amiable  in  private  life, 
and  his  attachment  to  Hamilton  was  steady  and  sincere. 
The  Duchess  of  Berwick  was  also  his  friend.  It  is  nec- 
essary to  mention  this  lady  particularly,  as  well  as  her 
sisters  :  they  were  the  daughters  of  Henry  Bulkele}',  son 
to  the  first  viscount  of  that  name  :  their  father  had  been 
master  of  the  household  to  Charles  :  their  mother  was 
Lady  Sophia  Stewart,  sister  to  the  beautiful  Duchess  of 
Richmond,  so  conspicuous  in  the  Grammont  Memoirs. 
The  sisters  of  the  Duchess  of  Berwick  were  Charlotte, 
married  to  Lord  Clare,*  Henrietta  and  Laura.  They  all 
occupy  a  considerable  space  in  Hamilton's  correspond- 
ence, and  the  last  two  are  the  ladies  so  often  addressed 
as  the  Mademoiselles  B.  ;  they  are  almost  the  constant 
subjects  of  Hamilton's  verses  ;  and  it  is  recorded  that  he 
was  a  particular  admirer  of  Henrietta  Bulkeley  ;  but 
their  union  would  have  been  that  of  hunger  and  thirst, 
for  both  were  very  poor  and  very  illustrious  :  their  junc- 
tion would,  of  course,  have  militated  against  every  rule 
of  common  prudence.  To  the  influence  of  this  lady, 
particularly,  we  are  indebted  for  one  or  two  of  Hamilton's 
agreeable  novels  :  she  had  taste  enough  to  laugh  at  the 
extravagant  stories  then  so  much  in  fashion,  "plus 
arabes  qu'en  Arabic,"  t  as  Hamilton  says  ;  and  he,  in 
compliance  with  her  taste,  and  his  own,  soon  put  the 
fashionable  tales  to  flight,  by  the  publication  of  the 
Quatre  Facardiiis^  and,  more  especially,  La  Flcur 
cf  Epinc.  Some  of  the  introductory  verses  to  these  pro- 
ductions are  written  with  peculiar  ease  and  grace  ;  and 
are  highly  extolled,  and  even  imitated,  by  Voltaire.  La 
Harpe  praises  the  Flciir    Epinc^  as  the  work  of  an  orig- 

*  (O'Brien)  ancestor  to  Marshal  Thoniond.  Lord  Clare  was  killed  at 
the  battle  of  RamilHes. 

t  They  were  wretched  imitations  of  some  of  the  Persian  and  Arabian 
tales,  in  which  everything  was  distorted,  and  rendered  absurd  and  pre- 
posterous. 


8 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF 


inal  genius  :  I  do  not  think,  however,  that  they  are 
much  relished  in  England,  probably  because  very  ill 
translated.  Another  of  his  literary  productions  was  the 
novel  called  Lc  Bclier^  which  he  wrote  on  the  following 
occasion  :  Louis  XIV.  had  presented  to  the  Countess  of 
Graniniont  (whom  he  highly  esteemed)  a  remarkably  ele- 
gant small  country  house  in  the  park  of  W'rsailles  :  this 
house  became  so  fashionable  a  resort,  and  brought  such 
constant  visitors,*  that  the  Count  de  Grammont  said,  in 
his  usual  way,  he  would  present  the  king  with  a  list  of 
all  the  persons  he  was  obliged  to  entertain  there,  as  more 
suited  to  his  Majesty's  purse  than  his  own  :  the  Countess 
wished  to  change  the  name  of  the  i)lace  from  the  vulgar 
appellation  of  Le  Moiilincaii  into  that  of  Pcnlalic:  and 
Hamilton,  in  his  novel,  wrote  a  history  of  a  giant,  an 
enchantment,  and  a  princess,  to  commemorate  her  reso- 
lution. It  has  however  happened  that  the  giant  Moiili- 
neaii  has  had  the  advantage  in  the  course  of  time  ;  for 
the  estate,  which  is  situated  near  Meudon,  upon  the 
Seine,  retains^its  original  and  popular  designation. 

About  the  year  1704,  Hamilton  turned  his  attention  to 
collecting  the  memoirs  of  his  brother-in-law,  the  Count 
de  Grammont,  as  we  may  conjecture,  from  an  epistle  be- 
ginning "  Honneur  des  rives  eloignees"  f  being  written 
towards  the  close  of  the  above  year  :  it  is  dated,  or  sup- 
posed to  be  so,  from  the  banks  of  the  Garonne.  Among 
other  aiithors  whom  Hamilton  at  first  proposes  to  Gram- 
mont as  capable  of  writing  his  life  (though,  on  reflection, 
he  thinks  them  not  suited  to  it)  is  Boileau,  whose  genius 

*  "  Le  bel  air  de  la  cour  est  d'aller  a  la  jolie  niaison,  que  le  roi  a  don- 
n^e  a  la  Couilesse  dc  Craiitont  dans  le  Pare  de  Versailles.  C'est  tellement 
la  mode,  que  c'est  une  hoiite  de  n'y  avoir  pas  ete.  La  Conitesse  de 
Grainont  se  porte  tres-bien  :  il  est  certain  que  le  roi  la  traite  a  merveille. 
Paris,  le  5  Aout,  1703." — Leltre  de  Madame  de  Coiilangcs  a  Madame 
de  Grignan. 

t  A  translation  of  this  epistle,  which  is  a  complete  sketch  of  the 
Oranimout  IMenioirs,  is  subjoined  to  this  Hiographical  Sketch  of  the 
Autlior. 


ANTHONY  HAMILTON. 


9 


he  professes  to  admire  ;  but  adds  that  his  muse  has  some- 
what of  malignity  ;  and  that  such  a  nmse  might  caress 
with  one  hand  and  satirize  him  with  the  other.  This  let- 
ter was  sent  by  Hamilton  to  Boileau,  who  answered  him 
with  great  politeness  ;  but,  at  the  same  time  that  he 
highly  extolled  the  epistle  to  Grammont,  he,  very  nat- 
urall)-,  seemed  anxious  to  efface  any  impression  which 
such  a  representation  of  his  satiric  vein  might  make  on 
the  Count's  mind,  and  accordingly  added  a  few  compli- 
mentary verses  to  him  :  this  letter  is  dated  Paris,  8th  Feb- 
ruary, 1705.  About  the  same  time,  another  letter  was 
written  to  Hamilton  on  the  subject  of  the  Epistle  to 
Grammont,  by  La  Chapelle,  who  also  seemed  desirous 
that  his  life  should  be  given  to  the  public,  but  was  much 
perplexed  which  of  the  most  celebrated  ancients  to  com- 
pare the  Count  to.  INIectenas  first  presented  himself  to 
his  imagination  :  absurdly  enough,  in  my  opinion  ;  for 
there  was  not  a  trace  of  similitude  between  the  two  char- 
acters. This,  however,  afforded  him  some  opportunity, 
as  he  thought,  of  discovering  a  resemblance  between 
Horace  and  Hamilton,  in  which  he  equally  failed.  Pe- 
tronius  is  then  brought  forward  as  affording  some  com- 
parison to  the  Count ;  a  man  of  pleasure,  giving  up  the 
day  to  sleep  and  the  night  to  entertainment  ;  but  then, 
adds  La  Chapelle,  it  will  be  suggested  that,  such  is  the 
perpetual  activity  of  the  Count  of  Grammont's  mind,  he 
may  be  said  to  sleep  neither  night  nor  day  ;  and  if  Pe- 
tronius  died,  the  Count  seems  determined  never  to  die  at 
all.  (He  was  at  this  time  about  eighty-five  years  of  age.) 
It  may  well  be  si:pposed  that  all  this,  though  now  per- 
fectly vapid  and  uninteresting,  was  extremely  flattering 
to  Grammont  ;  and  the  result  was  that  he  very  much 
wished  to  have  his  life,  or  part  of  it,  at  least,  given  to  the 
public.  Hamilton,  who  had  been  so  long  connected 
with  him,  and  with  wdiose  agreeable  talents  he  was  now 
so  familiarized,  was,  on  every  account,  singled  out  b\' 
him  as  the  person  who  could  best  introduce  him  histori- 


10 


BIOGRAPHICAI,  SKFITCH  OF 


cally  to  the  public.  It  is  ridiculous  to  ineution  Gram- 
mont  as  the  author  of  his  owu  Meuioirs  :  his  excellence, 
as  a  man  of  wit,  was  entirely  limited  to  conversation. 
Bu.ssy  Rabutin,  who  knew  him  perfectly,  states  that  he 
wrote  almost  worse  than  any  one.  If  this  was  said,  and 
very  truly,  of  him  in  his  early  days,  it  can  hardly  be 
imagined  that  he  would,  when  between  eighty  and 
ninety  years  of  age,  commence  a  regular,  and,  in  point 
of  style,  most  finished  composition.  Besides,  indepen- 
dent of  everything  else,  what  man  would  so  outrage  all 
decorum  as  to  call  himself  the  admiration  of  the  age? 
for  so  is  Grammont  extolled  in  the  Memoirs,  with  a 
variety  of  other  encomiastic  expressions  ;  although,  per- 
haps, such  vanity  has  not  been  without  example.  Ham- 
ilton, it  is  true,  says  that  he  acts  as  Grammont's  secre- 
tary, and  only  holds  the  pen,  whilst  the  Count  dictates 
to  him  such  particulars  of  his  life  as  were  the  most 
singular  and  least  known.  This  is  said  with  great 
modesty,  and,  as  to  part  of  the  work,  perhaps  with  great 
truth  :  it  requires,  however,  some  explanation.  Gram- 
mont was  more  than  twenty  years  older  than  Hamilton  ; 
consequently,  the  earlier  part  of  his  life  could  only  have 
been  known,  or  was  best  known,  to  the  latter  from  re- 
peated conversations,  and  the  long  intimacy  which  sub- 
sisted between  them.  Whether  Grammont  formally 
dictated  the  events  of  his  younger  days,  or  not,  is  of 
little  consequence  :  from  his  general  character,  it  is  prob- 
able that  he  did  not.  However,  the  whole  account  of 
such  adventures  as  he  was  engaged  in,  from  his  leaving 
home  to  his  interview  with  Cardinal  Mazarin  (excepting 
the  character  of  INIonsieur  de  Senantes,  and  i\Iatta,  who 
was  well  known  to  Hamilton),  the  relation  of  the  siege 
of  Lerida,  the  description  of  Gregorio  Brice,  and  the 
inimitable  discovery  of  his  own  magnificent  suit  of 
clothes  on  the  ridiculous  bridegroom  at  Abbeville  ;  all 
such  particulars  must  have  been  again  and  again  re- 
peated to  Hamilton  by  Grammont,  and  may  therefore 


ANTHONY  HAMILTON. 


11 


be  fairly  grounded  on  the  Count's  authority.  The  char- 
acters of  the  court  of  Charles  XL,  and  its  history,  are 
to  be  ascribed  to  Hamilton  :  from  his  residence,  at  va- 
rious times,  in  the  court  of  London,  his  connection  with 
the  Ormond  family,  not  to  mention  others,  he  must  have 
been  well  acquainted  with  them.  Lady  Chesterfield, 
who  may  be  regarded  almost  as  the  heroine  of  the  work, 
was  his  cousin-german.  *  But,  although  the  history 
altogether  was  written  by  Hamilton,  it  may  not  perhaps 
be  known  to  ever\-  reader  that  Grammont  himself  sold 
the  manuscript  for  fifteen  hundred  livres  ;  and  when  it 
was  brought  to  Fontenelle,  then  censor  of  the  press,  he 
refused  to  license  it,  from  respect  to  the  character  of  the 
Count,  which,  he  thought,  was  represented  as  that  of  a 
gambler,  and  an  unprincipled  one,  too.  In  fact,  Gram- 
mont, like  many  an  old  gentleman,  seems  to  have  recol- 
lected the  gaieties  of  his  youth  with  more  complaisance 
than  was  necessary,  and  has  drawn  them  in  pretty 
strong  colors  in  that  part  of  the  work  which  is  more 
particularly  his  own.  He  laughed  at  poor  Fontenelle's 
scruples,  and  complained  to  the  chancellor,  who  forced 
the  censor  to  acquiesce  :  the  license  was  granted,  and 
the  Count  put  the  whole  of  the  money,  or  the  best  part 
of  it,  in  his  pocket,  though  he  acknowledged  the  work 
to  be  Hamilton's.  This  is  exactly  correspondent  to  his 
general  character  :  when  money  was  his  object,  he  had 
little,  or  rather  no  delicacy. 

The  History  of  Grammont  may  be  considered  as 
unique  :  there  is  nothing  like  it  in  any  language.  For 
drollery,  knowledge  of  the  world,  various  satire,  gen- 
eral utility,  united  with  great  vivacity  of  composition, 
Gil  Bias  is  unrivalled  :  but,  as  a  merely  agreeable  book, 
the  Memoirs  of  Grammont  perhaps  deserve  that  char- 
acter more  than  any  which  was  ever  written  :  it  is  pleas- 


*  She  was  born  at  the  castle  of  Kilkenny,  July,  1640,  as  appears 
from  Carte's  life  of  her  father,  the  Duke  of  Orinoud. 


12 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF 


antry  throughout,  aud  pleasantry  of  the  best  sort,  un- 
forced, graceful,  and  engaging.  Some  French  critic 
has  justly  observed,  that,  if  any  book  were  to  be  selected 
as  afTording  the  truest  specimen  of  perfect  French  gaiety, 
the  Memoirs  of  Grammont  would  be  selected  in  prefer- 
ence to  all  others.  This  has  a  Frenchman  said  of  the 
work  of  a  foreigner  :  but  that  foreigner  possessed  much 
genius,  had  lived  from  his  youth,  not  only  in  the  best 
society  of  France,  but  with  the  most  singular  and  agree- 
able man  that  France  could  produce.  Still,  however, 
though  Grammont  and  Hamilton  were  of  dispositions 
very  different,  the  latter  must  have  possessed  talents  pe- 
culiarly brilliant,  and  admirably  adapted  to  coincide 
with,  and  display  those  of  his  brother-in-law  to  the 
utmost  advantage.  Gibbon  extols  the  "ease  and  purity 
of  Hamilton's  inimitable  style  ; "  and  in  this  he  is  sup- 
ported by  Voltaire,  although  he  adds  the  censure,  that 
the  Grammont  IMemoirs  are,  in  point  of  materials,  the 
most  trifling  ;  he  might  also  in  truth  have  said,  the  most 
improper.  The  manners  of  the  court  of  Charles  H. 
were,  to  the  utmost,  profligate  and  abandoned  :  yet  in 
what  colors  have  they  been  drawn  by  Hamilton  ?  The 
elegance  of  his  pencil  has  rendered  them  more  seductive 
and  dangerous,  than  if  he  had  more  faithfully  copied  the 
originals.  From  such  a  mingled  mass  of  gro.ssness  of 
language,  and  of  conduct,  one  would  have  turned  away 
with  disgust  and  abhorrence  ;  but  Hamilton  was,  to  use 
the  words  of  his  admirer,  Lord  Orford,  "superior  to  the 
indelicacy  of  the  court,"  whose  vices  he  has  so  agreeably 
depicted  ;  and  that  superiority  has  sheltered  such  vices 
from  more  than  half  the  oblivion  which  would  now  have 
forever  concealed  them. 

The  Count  de  Grammont  died  in  1707.  Some  years 
after  the  publication  of  his  ]\Ienioirs,  Hamilton  was  en- 
gaged in  a  very  different  work  :  he  translated  Pope's 
Essay  on  Criticism  into  French,  and,  as  it  should  seem, 
so  much  to  that  great  poet's  satisfaction,  that  he  wrote  a 


ANTHONY  HAMILTON. 


13 


very  polite  letter  of  thanks  to  him,  which  is  inserted  in 
Pope's  Correspondence.  Hamilton's  Essay  was,  I  be- 
lieve, never  printed,  though  Pope  warmly  requested  to 
have  that  permission  :  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.  had  now 
ceased  ;  and,  for  several  years  before  his  death,  the 
character  of  the  old  court  of  that  prince  had  ceased 
also  :  profligacy  and  gaiety  had  given  way  to  devotion 
and  austerity.  Of  Hamilton's  friends  and  literary  ac- 
quaintance few  were  left :  the  Duke  of  Berwick  was  em- 
ployed in  the  field,  or  at  Versailles  :  some  of  the  ladies, 
however,  continued  at  St.  Germain  ;  and  in  their  society, 
particularly  that  of  his  niece,  the  Countess  of  Stafford 
(in  whose  name  he  carried  on  a  lively  correspondence 
with  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montague),  he  passed  much 
of  his  time.  He  occasionally  indulged  in  poetical  com- 
positions of  a  style  suited  to  his  age  and  character  ;  and 
when  he  was  past  seventy,  he  wrote  that  excellent  copy 
of  verses,  Sur  P  Usage  dc  la  I  Ic  dans  la  I  yeillcssc ;  which, 
for  grace  of  style,  justness  and  purity  of  sentiment,  does 
honor  to  his  memory. 

Hamilton  died  at  St.  Germain,  in  April,  1720,  aged 
about  se\-ent}  -four.  His  death  was  pious  and  resigned. 
From  his  poem,  entitled  Reflections  *  he  appears,  like 
some  other  authors,  to  have  turned  his  mind,  in  old  age, 
entirely  to  those  objects  of  sacred  regard,  which,  sooner 
or  later,  must  engage  the  attention  of  every  rational 


■*  Voltaire,  upon  slight  evidence,  had  imputed  to  him,  at  an  earlier 
period,  sentiments  of  irreligion  similar  to  his  own  : 

Aupres  d'eux  le  vif  Hamilton, 
Toujours  arme  d'un  trait  qui  blesse, 
Medisait  de  I'humaine  espece, 
Et  meme  d'un  peu  mieux,  dit-on. 

But  whether  Voltaire  had  any  better  foundation  for  insinuating  this 
charge  than  the  libertine  tone  of  Hamilton's  earlier  works,  joined  to 
his  own  wish  to  hold  up  a  man  of  genius  as  a  partisan  of  his  own 
opinions,  must  remain  doiibtful ;  while  it  is  certain  that  Hamilton,  in 
his  latter  years,  sincerely  followed  the  Christian  religion. 


14 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF 


mind.  To  poetry  he  bids  an  eternal  adieu,  in  language 
which  breathes  no  diminution  of  genius,  at  the  moment 
that  he  forever  recedes  from  tlie  poetical  character.  But 
he  aspired  to  a  better.  The  following  lines  are  interest- 
ing, for  they  evidently  allude  to  his  own  situation  ;  and 
may  every  one,  who,  from  a  well-directed,  or  mistaken, 
but  pure  and  generous  zeal,  is,  through  the  course  of  a 
long  life,  assailed  by  the  temptations  of  poverty,  find  that 
consolation  in  an  innocence  of  manners,  which  Hamilton 
so  well  invoked,  and,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  not  altogether  in 
vain  : 

"  Fille  (lu  ciel,  pure  luiioceiice  ! 
Asile  contre  tons  nos  maux, 
Vrai  centre  du  parfait  repos  ! 
Heureux  celui,  clout  la  Constance, 
Vous  conservant  dans  rabondance, 
Ne  vous  perd  point,  dans  les  travaux 
D'une  longue  et  triste  indigence  !  " 

Whatever  were  Hamilton's  errors,  his  general  char- 
acter was  respectable.  He  has  been  represented  as  grave, 
and  even  dull,  in  society  ;  the  very  reverse,  in  short,  of 
what  he  appears  in  his  Memoirs  :  but  this  is  probably 
exaggerated.  Unquestionably,  he  had  not  the  unequalled 
vivacity  of  the  Count  de  Grammont  in  conversation  ;  as 
Grammont  was,  on  the  other  hand,  inferior,  in  all  re- 
spects, to  Hamilton  when  the  pen  was  in  his  hand  ;  the 
latter  was,  however,  though  reserved  in  a  large  society, 
particularly  agreeable  in  a  more  select  one.  Some  of 
his  letters  remain,  in  which  he  alludes  to  his  want  of  that 
facility  at  impromptu  which  gave  such  brilliancy  to  the 
conversation  of  some  of  his  brother  wits  and  contempo- 
raries. But,  while  we  admit  the  truth  of  this,  let  it  be 
remembered,  at  the  same  time,  that  when  he  wrote  this, 
he  was  by  no  means  young  ;  that  he  criticised  his  own 
defects  with  severity  ;  that  he  was  poor,  and  living  in 
a  court  which  itself  subsisted  on  the  alms  of  another. 
Amidst  such  circumstances,  extemporary  gaiety  cannot 


ANTHONY  HAMILTON. 


15 


always  be  found.  I  can  suppose,  that  the  Duchess  of 
Maine,  who  laid  claim  to  the  character  of  a  patroness  of 
wit,  and,  like  many  who  assert  such  claims,  was  very 
troublesome,  very  self-sufficient,  and  very  exigeante^ 
might  not  always  have  found  that  general  superiority,  or 
even  transient  lustre,  which  she  expected  in  Hamilton's 
society  :  yet,  considering  the  great  difference  of  their  age 
and  situation,  this  circumstance  will  not  greatly  impeach 
his  talents  for  conversation.  But  the  work  of  real  genius 
must  forever  remain  ;  and  of  Hamilton's  genius,  the 
Granimont  Memoirs  will  always  continue  a  beauteous 
and  graceful  monument.  To  that  monument  may  also 
be  added,  the  candor,  integrity,  and  unassuming  virtues 
of  the  amiable  author. 


rOKTKAIT  Ol'  Till-;  Cor.NT  III.  i.KA.MMONT. 


EPISTLE  TO  THE  COUNT  DE  GRAMMONT, 

BY  ANTHONY  HAMILTON, 
IN  HIS  OWN  AND  HIS  BROTHER'S  NAME.* 

Oh  !  thou,  the  glory  of  the  shore. 

Where  Corisauda  t  saw  the  day, 
The  blessed  abode  of  Menodore  ; 

Thou  whom  the  fates  have  dooni'd  to  stray 

Far  from  that  pleasant  shore  away, 
On  which  the  sun,  at  parting,  smiles, 

Ere,  gliding  o'er  the  Pyrenees, 

Spain's  tawny  visages  he  sees. 
And  sinks  behind  the  happy  isles  ; 

*  It  is  dated  from  Grainmoiit's  villa  of  Seiiieat,  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Garonne,  where  it  would  seem  I'hilil)crt  and  Anthony  Hamilton  were 
then  residing. 

t  Corisande  and  Mcnadaurc  were  both  ancestresses  of  the  Count  de 
Gramniont,  and  celebrated  for  beauty. 
(16) 


EPISTLE  TO  THE  COUNT  DE  GRAMMONT.  17 


Thou,  who  of  mighty  moiiarchs'  court 
So  loug  hast  shone  unerring  star, 

Unniatch'd  in  earnest  or  in  sport. 
In  love,  in  frolic,  and  in  war  ! 

To  you,  sir,  this  invocation  must  needs  be  addressed  ; 
for  whom  else  could  it  suit  ?  But  you  may  be  puzzled 
even  to  guess  who  invokes  you,  since  you  have  heard 
nothing  of  us  for  an  age,  and  since  so  long  an  absence 
may  have  utterly  banished  us  from  your  recollection. 
Yet  we  venture  to  flatter  ourselves  it  may  be  otherwise. 

For  who  was  e'er  forgot  by  thee? 

Witness,  at  Lerida,  Don  Brice,* 

And  Barcelona's  lady  nice. 
Donna  Ragueza,  fair  and  free  ; 
Witness  too  Boniface  at  Breda, 

And  Catalonia  and  Gasconne, 

From  Bordeaux  walls  to  far  Bayonne, 
From  Perpignan  to  Pueycreda, 

And  we  your  friends  of  fair  Garonne. 

Even  in  these  distant  and  peaceful  regions,  we  hear, 
by  daily  report,  that  you  are  more  agreeable,  more  nne- 
qualled,  and  more  marvellous  than  ever.  Our  country 
neighbors,  great  news-mongers,  apprised  by  their  corre- 
spondents of  the  lively  sallies  with  which  you  surprise 
the  court,  often  ask  us  if  you  are  not  the  grandson  of  that 
famous  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  of  whom  such  wonders 
are  recorded  in  the  History  of  the  Civil  Wars  ?  Indignant 
that  your  identity  should  be  disputed  in  a  country  where 
your  name  is  so  well  known,  we  had  formed  a  plan  of 
giving  some  faint  sketch  of  your  merits  and  history. 


*  Don  Brice  is  celebrated  in  the  A/einoirs,  but  Donna  Ragueza  does 
not  appear  there. 
2 


18 


EPISTLE  TO  THE 


But  who  were  we,  that  we  should  attempt  the  task  ? 
With  taleuts  naturally  but  indifferent,  and  now  rusted  by 
long  interruption  of  all  intercourse  with  the  court,  how 
were  it  possible  for  us  to  display  taste  and  politeness, 
excelling  all  that  is  to  be  found  elsewhere,  and  which 
yet  must  be  attributes  of  those  fit  to  make  you  their 
theme  ? 

Can  mediocrity  avail, 

To  follow  forth  such  high  emprize  ? 

In  vain  our  zeal  to  please  you  tries. 
Where  noblest  talents  well  might  fail  ; 
Where  loftiest  bards  might  yield  the  pen, 

And  own  'twere  rash  to  dare, 
'Tis  meet  that  country  gentlemen 

Be  silent  in  despair. 

We  therefore  limited  our  task  to  registering  all 
the  remarkable  particulars  of  your  life  which  our  mem- 
ory could  supply,  in  order  to  communicate  those 
materials  to  the  most  skilful  writers  of  the  metropolis. 
But  the  choice  embarrassed  us.  Sometimes  we  thought 
of  addressing  our  Memoirs  to  the  Academy,  persuaded 
that  as  you  had  formerly  sustained  a  logical  thesis,*  you 
must  know  enough  of  the  art  to  qualify  you  for  being 
received  a  member  of  that  illustrious  body,  and  praised 
from  head  to  foot  upon  the  day  of  admission.  Some- 
times, again,  we  thought,  that,  as,  to  all  appearance,  no 
one  will  survive  to  pronounce  your  eulogium  when  you 
are  no  more,  it  oiight  to  be  delivered  in  the  way  of 
anticipation  by  the  reverend  Father  INIassillon  or  De  La 
Rue.  But  we  considered  that  the  first  of  these  expedi- 
ents did  not  suit  your  rank,  and  that,  as  to  the  second, 
it  would  be  against  all  form  to  swathe  you  up  while 
alive  in  the  tropes  of  a  funeral  sermon.    The  celebrated 


I  presume,  when  lie  was  cdiu  atccl  for  the  church. 


COUNT  DE  GRAMMONT. 


19 


Boilcau  next  occurred  to  us,  and  we  believed  at  first 
lie  was  the  very  person  we  wanted  ;  but  a  moment's 
reflection  satisfied  us  that  he  would  not  answer  our  pur- 
pose. 

Sovereign  of  wit,  he  sits  alone. 

And  joys  him  in  his  glory  won  ; 

Or  if,  in  history  to  live, 

The  first  of  monarchs'  feats  he  give. 

Attentive  Phcebus  guides  his  hand, 

And  Memory's  daughters  round  him  stand  ; 

He  might  consign,  and  only  he, 

Thy  fame  to  immortality. 

Yet,  vixen  still,  his  muse  would  mix 

Her  playful  but  malicious  tricks. 

Which  friendship  scarce  might  smother. 
So  gambols  the  ambiguous  cat. 
Deals  with  one  paw  a  velvet  pat. 

And  scratches  you  with  t'other. 

The  next  expedient  which  occurred  to  us  was,  to  have 
your  portrait  displayed  at  full  length  in  that  miscellany 
which  lately  gave  iis  such  an  excellent  letter  of  the  illus- 
trious chief  of  }'our  house.  Here  is  the  direction  we 
obtained  for  that  purpose  : 


Not  far  from  that  superb  abode 

Where  Paris  bids  her  monarchs  dwell. 

Retiring  from  the  Louvre's  road. 
The  office  opes  its  fruitful  cell. 
In  choice  of  authors  nothing  nice, 
To  every  work,  of  every  price, 
However  rhymed,  however  writ, 
Especially  to  folks  of  wit. 
When  by  rare  chance  on  such  they  hit. 


20 


EPISTLE  TO  THE 


From  thence  each  month,  in  gallant  qiiire, 

Flit  sonneteers  in  tuneful  sallies, 

All  tender  heroes  of  their  allies, 
By  verse  familiar  who  aspire 
To  seize  the  honor' d  name  of  poet. 

Some  scream  on  mistuned  pipes  and  whistles, 

Pastorals  and  amorous  epistles  ; 
Some,  twining  worthless  wreath,  bestow  it 

On  bards  and  warriors  of  their  own, 

In  camp  and  chronicle  unknown. 
Here,  never  rare,  though  ever  new, 
Riddle,  in  veil  fantastic  screening. 

Presents,  in  his  mysterious  mask, 

A  useless,  yet  laborious  task. 
To  loungers  who  have  nought  to  do. 

But  puzzle  out  his  senseless  meaning. 
'Tis  here,  too,  that  in  transports  old. 

New  elegies  are  monthly  moaning  ; 
Here,  too,  the  dead  their  lists  unfold, 
Telling  of  heirs  and  widows  groaning  ; 

Telling  what  sums  were  left  to  glad  them. 
And  here  in  copper-plate  they  shine. 
Showing  their  features,  rank,  and  line, 

And  all  their  arms,  and  whence  they  had  them. 


We  soon  saw  it  would  be  impossible  to  crowd  you, 
with  propriety,  into  so  miscellaneous  a  miscellany  :  and 
these  various  difficulties  at  length  reconciled  us  to  our 
original  intention  of  attempting  the  adventure  ourselves, 
despite  of  our  insufficiency,  and  of  calling  to  our  assist- 
ance two  persons  whom  we  have  not  the  honor  to  know, 
but  some  of  whose  compositions  have  reached  us.  In 
order  to  propitiate  them  by  some  civilities,  one  of  us  (he 
who  wears  at  his  ear  that  pearl,  which,  you  used  to  say, 
his  mother  had  hung  there  out  of  devotion)  began  to 
invoke  them,  as  you  shall  hear. 


COUNT  DE  GRAMMONT. 


21 


O  !  thou  of  whom  the  easy  strain 

Enchanted  by  its  happy  sway, 
Sometimes  the  margin  of  the  Seine, 
Sometimes  the  fair  and  fertile  plain, 

Where  winds  the  Maine  her  lingering  way  ; 

Whether  the  light  and  classic  lay 
Lie  at  the  feet  of  fair  Climene  ; 

Or  if,  La  Fare,  thou  rather  choose 

The  mood  of  the  theatric  muse. 

And  raise  again,  the  stage  to  tread. 

Renowned  Greeks  and  Romans  dead  ; 

Attend  ! — And  thou,  too,  lend  thine  aid, 

Chaulieu  !  on  whom,  in  raptur'd  hour, 

Phoebus  breath' d  energy  and  power  ; 

Come  both,  and  each  a  stanza  place. 

The  structure  that  we  raise  to  grace  ; 

To  gild  our  heavy  labors  o'er. 

Your  aid  and  influence  we  implore. 

The  invocation  was  scarce  fairly  written  out,  when 
we  found  the  theatric  muse  a  little  misplaced,  as  neither 
of  the  gentlemen  invoked  appeared  to  have  written  any- 
thing falling  under  her  department.  This  reflection 
embarrassed  us  ;  and  we  were  meditating  what  turn 
should  be  given  to  the  passage,  when  behold  !  there  ap- 
peared at  once,  in  the  midst  of  the  room,  a  form  that 
surprised  without  alarming  us  : — it  was  that  of  your 
philosopher,  the  inimitable  St.  Evremond.  *  None  of 
the  tumult  which  usually  announces  the  arrival  of  ghosts 
of  consequence  preceded  this  apparition. 


*  With  whom,  as  appears  from  the  Memoirs,  the  Count,  while  resid- 
ing in  London,  maintained  the  closest  intimacy.  St.  Evremond  was 
delighted  with  his  wit,  vivacity,  and  latitude  of  principle  :  He  called 
him  his  hero  ;  wrote  verses  in  his  praise  ;  in  short,  took  as  warm  an 
interest  in  him  as  an  Epicurean  philosopher  can  do  in  any  one  but  him- 
self. 


22 


EPISTLE  TO  THE 


The  sky  was  clear  and  still  o'erhead, 

No  earthquake  shook  the  regions  under, 
No  subterraneous  murmur  dread, 

And  not  a  single  clap  of  thunder. 
He  was  not  clothed  in  rags,  or  tatter' d, 

Like  that  same  grim  and  grisly  spectre, 
Who,  ere  Philippi's  contest  clatter'd, 

The  dauntless  Brutus  came  to  hector  : 
Nor  was  he  clad  like  ghost  of  L,aius, 

Who,  when  against  his  son  he  pled. 

Nor  worse  nor  better  wardrobe  had, 
Than  scanty  mantle  of  Emaeus  : 

Nor  did  his  limbs  a  shroud  encumber. 
Like  that  which  vulgar  sprites  enfold, 
When,  gliding  from  their  ghostly  hold, 

They  haunt  our  couch,  and  scare  our  slumber. 

By  all  this  we  saw  the  ghost's  intention  was  not  to 
frighteu  us.  He  was  dressed  exactly  as  when  we  had 
first  the  pleasure  of  his  acquaintance  in  London.  He 
had  the  same  air  of  mirth,  sharpened  and  chastened  by 
satirical  expression,  and  even  the  same  dress,  which 
undoubtedly  he  had  preserved  for  this  visit.  Lest  you 
doubt  it — 

His  ancient  studying-cap  he  wore. 
Well  tann'd,  of  good  Morocco  hide  ;  * 

The  eternal  double  loop  before. 
That  lasted  till  its  master  died  : 

In  fine,  the  self-same  equipage. 
As  when,  with  lovely  Mazarin, 


*  One  of  St.  Evremond's  peculiarities  was,  that,  instead  of  a  wig,  the 
universal  dress  of  the  time,  he  chose  to  wear  his  own  gray  hair,  covered 
with  the  leathern  cap  described  in  the  text. 


COUNT  DE  GRAMMONT. 


23 


Still  boasting  of  the  name  of  Sage, 

He  drowned,  in  floods  of  generous  wine, 

The  diilness  and  the  frost  of  age. 
And  daily  paid  the  homage  due. 
To  charms  that  seeni'd  forever  new. 

As  he  arrived  unannounced,  he  placed  himself  be- 
tween us  without  ceremony,  but  could  not  forbear 
smiling  at  the  respect  with  which  we  withdrew  our 
chairs,  under  pretence  of  not  crowding  him.  I  had  al- 
ways heard  that  it  was  necessary  to  question  folks  of  the 
other  world,  in  order  to  engage  them  in  conversation  ; 
but  he  soon  showed  us  the  contrary  ;  for,  casting  his  eyes 
on  the  paper  which  we  had  left  on  the  table, — "  I  ap- 
prove," said  he,  "  of  your  plan,  and  I  come  to  give  you 
some  advice  for  the  execution  ;  but  I  cannot  comprehend 
the  choice  yoi;  have  made  of  these  two  gentlemen  as 
assistants.  I  admit,  it  is  impossible  to  write  more 
beautifully  than  they  both  do  ;  but  do  you  not  see  that 
they  write  nothing  but  by  starts,  and  that  their  subjects 
are  as  extraordinary  as  their  caprice  ? 

Love-lorn  and  goiit}-,  one  soft  swain 
Rebels,  amid  his  rhymes  profane, 

Against  ^ecific  water-gruel  ; 
Or  chirrups,  in  his  ill-tim'd  lay. 
The  joys  of  freedom  and  tokay. 

When  Celimena's  false  or  cruel  : 
The  other,  in  his  lovely  strain. 
Fresh  from  the  font  of  Hippocrene, 

Rich  in  the  charms  of  sound  and  sense, 
Throws  all  his  eloquence  awa}-. 
And  vaunts,  the  live-long  lingering  day, 

The  languid  bliss  of  indolence. 

"Give  up  thoughts  of  them,  if  you  please  ;  for  though 


24  EPISTLE  TO  THE 

yoli  have  invoked  them,  they  won't  come  the  sooner  to 
your  succor  :  arrange,  as  well  as  you  can,  the  materials 
you  had  collected  for  others,  and  never  mind  the  order 
of  time  or  events  :  I  would  advise  you,  on  the  contrary, 
to  choose  the  latter  years  of  your  hero  for  your  principal 
subject :  his  earlier  adventures  are  too  remote  to  be  al- 
together so  interesting  in  the  present  day.  Make  some 
short  and  light  observation  on  the  resolution  he  has 
formed  of  never  dying,  and  upon  the  power  he  seems 
to  possess  of  carrying  it  into  execution.  * 

That  art  by  which  his  life  he  has  warded. 
And  death  so  often  has  retarded, 

'Tis  strange  to  me, 

The  world's  envy 
Has  ne'er  with  jaundiced  eye  regarded  : 
But,  mid  all  anecdotes  he  tells 
Of  warriors,  statesmen,  and  of  belles, 

With  whom  he  fought,  intrigued,  and  slept. 
That  rare  and  precious  mystery, 
His  art  of  immortality. 

Is  the  sole  secret  he  has  kept. 

"  Do  not  embarrass  yoiir  brains  in  seeking  ornaments, 
or  turns  of  eloquence,  to  paint  his  c^iaracter  :  that  would 
resemble  strained  panegyric  ;  and  a  faithful  portrait  will 
be  his  best  praise.  Take  care  how  you  attempt  to  re- 
port his  stories,  or  bo7is  mots :  The  subject  is  too  great 
for  you.f  Try  only,  in  relating  his  adventures,  to  color 
over  his  failings,  and  give  relief  to  his  merits. 


*  The  Count  de  Grammont,  in  his  old  age,  recovered,  contrary  to  the 
expectation  of  his  physicians,  and  of  all  the  world,  from  one  or  two 
dangerous  illnesses,  which  led  him  often  to  say,  in  his  lively  manner, 
that  he  had  formed  a  resolution  never  to  die.  This  declaration  is  the 
subject  of  much  raillery  through  the  whole  epistle. 

t  Bussi-Rabutin  assures  us,  that  much  of  the  merit  of  Grammont's 


COUNT  DE  GRAM  MONT. 


25 


'Twas  thus,  b}-  eas}-  route  of  yore. 

My  hero  to  the  skies  I  bore.* 

For  your  part,  sketch  how  beauties  teuder, 

Did  to  his  vows  iu  crowds  surrender  : 

Show  him  forth-following  the  banners 

Of  one  who  match 'd  the  goddess-born  : 
Show  how  in  peace  his  active  manners 

Held  dull  repose  in  hate  and  scorn  : 
Show  how  at  court  he  made  a  figure, 
Taught  lessons  to  the  best  intriguer. 
Till,  without  fawning,  like  his  neighbors, 
His  prompt  address  foil'd  all  their  labors. 

bons  inots  consisted  in  his  peculiar  mode  of  delivering  them,  although 
his  reputation  as  a  wit  was  universally  established.  Few  of  those  which 
have  been  preserved  are  susceptible  of  translation  ;  but  the  following 
may  be  taken  as  a  specimen  : 

One  day  when  Charles  II.  dined  in  state,  he  made  Grammont  remark, 
that  he  was  served  upon  the  knee  ;  a  mark  of  respect  not  common  at 
other  courts.  "I  thank  your  majesty  for  the  explanation,"  answered 
Grammont;  "  I  thought  they  were  begging  pardon  for  giving  you  so 
bad  a  dinner."  Louis  XIV.,  playing  at  tric-trac,  disputed  a  throw  with 
his  opponent.  The  bj'standers  were  appealed  to,  and  could  not  decide 
the  cause.  It  was  referred  to  Grammont,  who,  from  the  farther  end  of 
the  gallery,  declared  against  the  king.  "  But  you  have  not  heard  the 
case,"  said  Louis.  "Ah,  sire,"  replied  the  Count,  "  if  j-our  majesty  had 
but  a  shadow  of  right,  would  these  gentlemen  have  failed  to  decide  in 
your  favor?  " 

*  St.  Evremond,  whose  attachment  to  (jrammont  amounted  to  enthu- 
siasm, composed  the  following  epitaph  upon  him,  made,  however,  long 
before  the  Count's  death,  in  which  he  touches  many  of  the  topics  which 
he  here  is  supposed  to  recommend  to  Hamilton. 

Here  lies  the  Count  de  Grammont,  stranger  ! 

Old  Evreniond's  eternal  theme  ; 
He  who  shared  Conde's  every  danger, 

Ma3^  envy  from  the  bravest  claim. 
Wouldst  know  his  art  in  courtly  life  ? 
It  match'd  his  courage  in  the  strife. 
Wouldst  ask  his  merit  with  the  fair  ! — 
Who  ever  lived  his  equal  there  ? 
His  wit  to  scandal  never  stooping  ; 
His  mirth  ne'er  to  buffoon'ry  drooping  : 


26 


EPISTLE  TO  THE 


Canvas  and  colors  change  once  more, 

And  paint  him  forth  in  varions  light : 
The  sconrge  of  coxcomb  and  of  bore  ; 
Live  record  of  lampoons  in  score, 

And  chronicle  of  love  and  fight  ; 
Redonbted  for  his  plots  so  rare, 
By  every  happy  swain  and  fair  ; 
Driver  of  rivals  to  despair  ; 

Sworn  enemy  to  all  long  speeches  ; 
Lively  and  brilliant,  frank  and  free  ; 
Author  of  many  a  repartee  : 
Remember,  over  all,  that  he 

Was  most  renown 'd  for  storming  breaches. 
Forget  not  the  white  charger's  prance, 

On  which  a  daring  boast  sustaining, 
He  came  before  a  prince  of  France, 

Victorious  in  Alsace  campaigning.* 
Tell,  too,  by  what  enchanting  art. 
Or  of  the  head,  or  of  the  heart. 

If  skill  or  courage  gaiu'd  his  aim  ; 
When  to  Saint  Albans'  foul  disgrace, 
Despite  his  colleague's  grave  grimace, 
And  a  fair  nymph's  seducing  face. 
He  carried  off  gay  Buckingham.! 


Keeping  his  character's  marked  plan, 
As  spouse,  sire,  gallant,  and  old  man. 
But  went  he  to  confession  duly  ? 

At  matins,  mass,  and  vespers  steady  ? 
Fervent  in  prayer  ? — to  tell  you  truly, 
He  left  these  cares  to  my  good  lady. 
We  may  once  more  see  a  Turenne  ; 

Conde  himself  may  have  a  double  ; 
But  to  make  Grammont  o'er  again. 

Would  cost  dame  Nature  too  nuich  trouble. 
*  Grammont  had  promised  to  the  Dauphin,  then  commanding  the 
army  in  Alsace,  that  he  would  join  him  before  the  end  of  the  campaign 
nunmted  on  a  white  horse. 

t  Grammont  is  supposed  to  have  had  no  small  share  in  determining 


COUNT  DE  GRAMMONT. 


27 


SpeaK  all  these  feats,  and  simply  speak — 
To  soar  too  high  were  forward  freak — 

To  keep  Parnassus'  skirts  discreetest  ; 
For  '  tis  not  on  the  very  peak, 

That  middling  voices  sound  the  sweetest. 
Each  tale  in  easy  language  dress. 

With  natural  expression  closing  ; 
Let  every  rhyme  fall  in  express  ; 
Avoid  poetical  excess. 

And  shun  low  miserable  prosing  : 
Doat  not  on  modish  style,  I  pray, 

Nor  yet  condemn  it,  with  rude  passion  ; 
There  is  a  place  near  the  IVIarais, 
Where  mimicry  of  antique  lay 

Seems  to  be  creeping  into  fashion. 
This  new  and  much  admired  way, 

Of  using  Gothic  words  and  spelling, 
Costs  hut  the  price  of  Rabelais, 

Or  Ronsard's  sonnets,  to  excel  in. 
With  half  a  dozen  ekes  and  ayes, 
Or  some  such  antiquated  phrase. 
At  small  expense  you'll  lightly  hit 
On  this  new  strain  of  ancient  wit. 

We  asstired  the  spirit  ^ve  would  try  to  profit  b}-  this 
last  advice,  but  that  his  caution  against  falling  into  the 
languor  of  a  prosing  narration  appeared  to  us  more  diffi- 
cult to  follow.  "Once  for  all,"  said  he,  "do  your 
best ;  folks  that  write  for  the  Count  de  Grammont  have 
a  right  to  reckon  on  some  indiilgence.  At  any  rate, 
you  are  only  known  through  him,  and,  apparent!}',  what 


the  Duke  of  Ruckinghain,  then  Charles  the  Second's  favorite  minister, 
to  break  the  triple  alliance  ;  for  which  purpose  he  went  to  France  with 
the  Count,  in  spite  of  all  that  the  other  English  ministers,  and  even 
his  mistress,  the  celebrated  Countess  of  Shrewsbury,  could  do  to  prevent 
him. 


28 


EPISTLE  TO  THE 


you  are  about  will  not  increase  the  public  curiosity  on 
your  own  account.  I  must  end  my  visit,"  he  continued, 
"and  by  my  parting  wishes  convince  my  hero  that  I 
continue  to  interest  myself  in  his  behalf." 

Still  may  his  wit's  unceasing  charms 

Blaze  forth,  his  numerous  days  adorning  ; 
May  he  renounce  the  din  of  arms, 

And  sleep  some  longer  of  a  morning  : 
Still  be  it  upon  false  alarms, 

That  chaplains  come  to  lecture  o'er  him  •  * 
Still  prematurely,  as  before, 
That  all  the  doctors  give  him  o'er, 

And  king  and  court  are  weeping  for  liim. 
Ma}'  such  repeated  feats  convince 

The  king  he  lives  but  to  attend  him  ; 
And  may  he,  like  a  grateful  prince. 

Avail  him  of  the  hint  they  lend  him  : 
Live  long  as  Granunont's  age,  and  longer, 

Then  learn  his  art  still  to  grow  younger. 


Here  ceased  the  ghostl)-  Norman  sage, 

A  clerk  whom  we  as  well  as  }  ou  rate 
The  choicest  spirit  of  his  age. 

And  heretofore  your  only  curate  : 
Though  not  a  wight,  you  see,  his  spectre 
Doth,  like  a  buried  parson's,  lecture. 
Then  off  he  glideth  to  the  band 

Of  fcal  friends  that  hope  to  greet  you, 
But  long  may  on  the  margin  stand. 

Of  sable  Styx,  before  they  meet  you. 


*  I)c  Oraniniont  having  fallen  seriously  ill,  at  the  age  of  seventy-five, 
the  king,  who  knew  his  free  sentiments  in  religious  matters,  sent 
Dangeau  to  give  him  ghostly  advice.  The  Count,  finding  his  errand, 
turned  to  his  wife,  and  cried  out,  "Countess,  if  you  don't  look  to  it, 
Dangeau  will  cheat  you  of  my  conversion." 


COUNT  DE  GRAMMONT. 


29 


No  need  upon  that  theme  to  dwell, 

Since  none  but  you  the  cause  can  tell  ; 

Yet,  if,  when  some  half  century  more, 

In  health  and  glee,  has  glided  o'er, 

You  find  you,  maugre  all  your  strength, 

Stretch'd  out  in  woeful  state  at  length. 

And  forced  to  Erebus  to  troop. 

There  shall  you  find  the  joyous  group, 
Carousing  on  the  St}'gian  border  ; 

Waiting,  with  hollo  and  with  whoop. 
To  dub  you  brother  of  their  order  : 

There  shall  you  find  Dan  Benserade, 
Doughty  Chapelle  and  Sarazine, 
Voiture  and  Chaplain,  gallants  fine. 

And  he  who  ballad  never  made, 

Nor  rhymed  without  a  flask  of  wine. 

Adieu,  sir  Count,  the  world  around 

Who  roam'd  in  quest  of  love  and  battle. 
Of  whose  high  merits  fame  did  tattle, 

As  sturdy  filter,  knight  renown' d. 

Before  the  warfare  of  the  Fronde, 

Should  you  again  review  Gironde, 

Travelling  in  coach,  by  journeys  slow. 
You'll  right  hand  mark  a  sweet  chateau. 
Which  has  few  ornaments  to  show. 

But  deep,  clear  streams,  that  moat  the  spot, 

'Tis  there  we  dwell — forget  us  not  ! 

Think  of  us  then,  pray,  sir,  if,  by  chance,  you  should 
take  a  fancy  to  revisit  your  fair  mansion  of  Semeat. 
In  the  meanwhile,  permit  us  to  finish  this  long  letter  ; 
we  have  endeavored  in  vain  to  make  something  of  it,  by 
varying  our  language  and  style — you  see  how  our  best 
efforts  fall  below  our  subject.  To  succeed,  it  would  be 
necessary  that  he  whom  our  fictions  conjured  up  to  our 
assistance  were  actually  among  the  living.    But,  alas  ! 


EPISTLE  TO  THE  COUNT  DE  GRAMMONT. 

No  more  shall  Evremond  incite  us, 
That  chronicler  whom  none  surpasses, 

Whether  his  grave  or  gay  delight  us  ; 
That  favorite  of  divine  Parnassus 

Can  find  no  ford  in  dark  Cocytus  : 
From  that  sad  river's  fatal  bourne. 
Alone  De  Grammont  can  return. 


ST.  EVRKMOND. 


MEMOIRS 

OF 

COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


CHAPTER  I. 

As  those  who  read  only  for  amusement  are,  in  my 
opinion,  more  worthy  of  attention  than  those  who  open 
a  book  merely  to  find  fanlt,  to  the  former  I  address  my- 
self, and  for  their  entertainment  commit  the  following 
pages  to  press,  withont  being  in  the  least  concerned 
about  the  severe  criticisms  of  the  latter.  I  further 
declare,  that  the  order  of  time  and  disposition  of  the 
facts,  which  give  more  trouble  to  the  writer  than  pleas- 
ure to  the  reader,  shall  not  much  embarrass  me  in  these 
Memoirs.  It  being  my  design  to  convey  a  just  idea  of 
my  hero,  those  circumstances  which  most  tend  to  illus- 
trate and  distinguish  his  character  shall  find  a  place  in 
these  fragments  just  as  they  present  themselves  to  my 
imagination,  without  paying  any  particular  attention  to 
their  arrangement.    For,  after  all,  what  does  it  signify 

(:;]) 


32 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


where  the  portrait  is  begun,  provided  the  assemblage  of 
the  parts  fonns  a  whole  which  perfectly  expresses  the 
original  ?  The  celebrated  Plutarch,  who  treats  his 
heroes  as  he  does  his  readers,  commences  the  life  of  the 
one  just  as  he  thinks  fit,  and  diverts  the  attention  of  the 
other  with  digressions  into  antiquity,  or  agreeable  pas- 
sages of  literature,  which  frequently  have  no  reference 
to  the  subject  ;  for  instance,  he  tells  us  that  Demetrius 
Poliorcetes  was  far  from  being  so  tall  as  his  father, 
Antigonus  ;  and  afterwards,  that  his  reputed  father, 
Antigonus,  was  only  his  uncle  ;  but  this  is  not  until  he 
has  begun  his  life  with  a  short  account  of  his  death,  his 
various  exploits,  his  good  and  bad  qualities  ;  and  at  last, 
out  of  compassion  to  his  failings,  brings  forward  a  com- 
parison between  him  and  the  inifortunate  Mark  Antony, 

In  the  Life  of  Numa  Pompilius,  he  begins  by  a  disser- 
tation upon  his  preceptor  Pythagoras  ;  and,  as  if  he 
thought  the  reader  would  be  anxious  to  know  whether 
it  was  the  ancient  philosopher,  or  one  of  the  s^me  name, 
who,  after  being  victorious  at  the  Olympic  games,  went 
full  speed  into  Italy  to  teach  Numa  philosophy,  and  in- 
struct him  in  the  arts  of  government,  he  gives  himself 
much  trouble  to  explain  this  difficulty,  and,  after  all, 
leaves  it  undetermined. 

What  I  have  said  upon  this  subject  is  not  meant  to 
reflect  upon  this  historian,  to  whom,  of  all  the  ancients, 
we  are  most  obliged  ;  it  is  only  intended  to  aiithorize 
the  manner  in  which  I  have  treated  a  life  far  more  ex- 
traordinary than  any  of  those  he  has  transmitted  to  us.  It 
is  my  part  to  describe  a  man  whose  inimitable  character 
casts  a  veil  over  those  faults  which  I  shall  neither  palli- 
ate nor  disguise  ;  a  man  distinguished  by  a  mixture  of 
virtues  and  vices  so  closely  linked  together  as  in  appear- 
ance to  form  a  necessary  dependence,  glowing  with  the 
greatest  beauty  when  united,  shining  with  the  brightest 
lustre  when  opposed. 

It  is  this  indefinable  brilliancy,  which,  in  war,  in  love, 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


33 


in  gaming,  and  in  the  various  stages  of  a  long  life,  has 
rendered  the  Count  de  Grammont  the  admiration  of  his 
age,  and  the  delight  of  every  conn  cry  wherein  he  has 
displayed  his  engaging  wit,  dispensed  his  generosity  and 
magnificence,  or  practised  his  inconstancy  :  it  is  owing 
to  this  that  the  sallies  of  a  sprightly  imagination  have 
produced  those  admirable  bons-mots  which  have  been 
with  universal  applause  transmitted  to  posterity.  It  is 
owing  to  this  that  he  preserv-ed  his  judgment  free  and 
unembarrassed  in  the  most  trying  situations,  and  enjoyed 
an  uncommon  presence  of  mind  and  facetiousness  of  tem- 
per in  the  most  imminent  dangers  of  war.  I  shall  not 
attempt  to  draw  his  portrait :  his  person  has  been 
described  by  Bussi  and  St.  Evremond,*  authors  more  en- 
tertaining than  faithful.  The  former  has  represented  the 
Chevalier  Grammont  as  artful,  fickle,  and  even  somewhat 
treacherous  in  his  amours,  and  indefatigable  and  cruel 
in  his  jealousies.    St.  Evremond  has  used  other  colors  to 


*  Voltaire,  in  the  age  of  Louis  XIV.,  ch.  24,  speaking  of  that  mon- 
arch, says,  "even  at  the  same  time  when  he  began  to  encourage  genius 
by  his  liberality,  the  Count  de  Bussi  was  severely  punished  for  the  use 
he  made  of  hia  ;  he  was  sent  to  the  Rastile  in  1664.  The  Amours  of  the 
Gauls  was  the  pretence  of  his  imprisonment ;  but  the  true  cause  was 
the  song  in  which  the  king  was  treated  with  too  much  freedom,  and 
which,  upon  this  occasion,  was  brought  to  remembrance  to  ruin  Bussi, 
the  reputed  author  of  it. 

Que  Deodatus  est  heureux, 
De  baiser  ce  bee  amoureux, 
Qui  d'une  oreille  a  I'autre  va ! 

See  Deodatus  with  his  billing  dear, 

Whose  amorous  mouth  breathes  love  from  ear  to  ear  i 

•'His  works  were  not  good  enough  to  compensate  for  the  mischief 
they  did  him.  He  spoke  his  own  langiiage  with  purity  :  he  had  some 
merit,  but  more  conceit :  and  he  made  no  use  of  the  merit  he  had,  but 
to  make  himself  enemies."  Voltaire  adds,  "  Bussi  was  released  at  the 
end  of  eighteen  mor.ths  ;  but  he  was  in  disgrace  all  the  rest  of  his  life, 
in  vain  protesting  a  regard  for  Louis  XIV."  Bussi  died  1693.  Of  St. 
Evremond,  see  note,  postea. 
3 


34 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


express  the  genius  and  describe  the  general  manners  of 
the  Count  ;  whilst  both,  in  their  different  pictures,  have 
done  greater  honor  to  themselves  than  justice  to  their 
hero. 

It  is,  therefore,  to  the  Count  we  must  listen,  in  the 
agreeable  relation  of  the  sieges  and  battles  wherein  he 
distinguished  himself  under  another  hero  ;  and  it  is  on 
him  we  must  rely  for  the  truth  of  passages  the  least 
glorious  of  his  life,  and  for  the  sincerity  with  which  he 
relates  his  address,  vivacity,  frauds,  and  the  various 
stratagems  he  practised  either  in  love  or  gaming.  These 
express  his  true  character,  and  to  himself  we  owe  these 
memoirs,  since  I  only  hold  the  pen,  while  he  directs  it 
to  the  most  remarkable  and  secret  passages  of  his  life. 


I.Ol'IS  XIV. 


CHAPTER  II. 


In  those  days  affairs  were  not  managed  in  France  as 
at  present.  Louis  XIII.  *  then  sat  upon  the  throne,  but 
the  Cardinal  de  Richelieu  f  governed  the  kingdom  ; 
great  men  commanded  little  armies,  and  little  armies 
did  great  things  :  the  fortune  of  great  men  depended 
solely  upon  ministerial  favor,  and  blind  devotion  to  the 


*  Sou  and  successor  of  Henry  IV.  He  began  to  reign  14th  May, 
1610,  and  died  14th  May,  1643. 

t  Of  this  great  minister  Mr.  Hume  gives  the  following  character : 
"This  man  had  no  sooner,  by  suppleness  and  intrigue,  got  possession 
of  the  reins  of  government,  than  he  formed  at  once  three  mighty  pro- 
jects :  to  subdue  the  turbulent  spirits  of  the  great ;  to  reduce  the  rebel- 
lious Huguenots,  and  to  curb  the  encroaching  power  of  the  house  of 
Austria.  Undaunted  and  implacable,  prudent  and  active,  he  braved 
all  the  opposition  of  the  French  princes  and  nobles  in  the  prosecution 
of  his  vengeance  ;  he  discovered  and  dissipated  all  their  secret  cabals 
and  conspiracies.  His  sovereign  himself  he  held  in  subjection,  while 
he  exalted  the  throne.  The  people,  while  they  lost  their  liberties,  ac- 
quired, by  means  of  his  administration,  learning,  order,  discipline  and 
renown.  That  confused  and  inaccurate  genius  of  government,  of  which 
France  partook  in  common  with  other  European  kingdoms,  he  changed 
into  a  simple  monarchy,  at  the  verj-  time  when  the  incapacity  of  Buck- 

(35) 


36 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


will  of  the  minister  was  the  only  snre  method  of  ad- 
vancement. Vast  designs  were  then  laying  in  the  heart 
of  neighboring  states  the  foundation  of  that  formidable 
greatness  to  which  France  has  now  risen  :  the  police  was 
somewhat  neglected  ;  the  highways  were  impassable  by 
day,  and  the  streets  by  night ;  and  robberies  were  com- 
mitted elsewhere  with  great  impunity.  Young  men, 
on  their  first  entrance  into  the  world,  took  what  conrse 
they  thought  proper.  Whoever  would,  was  a  chevalier, 
and  whoever  could,  an  abbe  :  I  mean  a  beneficed  abbe  : 
dress  made  no  distinction  between  them  ;  and  I  believe 
the  Chevalier  Grammont  was  both  the  one  and  the  other 
at  the  siege  of  Trino.  * 

This  was  his  first  campaign,  and  here  he  displayed 
those  attractive  graces  which  so  favorably  prepossess, 
and  require  neither  friends  nor  recommendations  in  any 
company  to  procure  a  favorable  reception.  The  siege 
was  already  formed  when  he  arrived,  which  saved  him 
some  needless  risks  ;  for  a  volunteer  cannot  rest  at  ease 
until  he  has  stood  the  first  fire  :  he  went  therefore  to  re- 
connoitre the  generals,  having  no  occasion  to  reconnoitre 
the  place.  Prince  Thomas  f  commanded  the  army  ;  and 
as  the  post  of  lieutenant-general  was  not  then  known, 
Du  Plessis  Pralin  X  and  the  famous  Viscount  Turenne  § 

ingham  encouraged  the  free  spirit  of  the  commons  to  establish  in  Eng- 
land a  regular  system  of  liberty."    {History  of  England,  vol.  iv.,  p. 
232.)    Cardinal  Richelieu  died  1642. 
*  Trino  was  taken  4th  Ma}-,  1639. 

t  Of  Savoy,  uncle  of  the  reigning  duke.    He  died  1656. 

X  Afterwards  Marechal  and  Duke  de  Choiseul.  He  retired  from  the 
army  in  1672.  Monsieur  Henault,  in  his  History  of  France,  under  that 
year,  says  :  "  Le  Marechal  du  Ple.ssis  ne  fit  pas  cette  campagne  a  cause 
de  son  grand  age  ;  il  dit  au  roi,  qu'il  portoit  envie  a  ses  enfans,  qui 
avoient  I'honneur  de  servir  sa  majeste,  que  pour  lui  il  souhaitoit  la  mort, 
puisqu'il  u'etoit  plus  bon  a  rien  :  le  roi  I'embrassa,  et  lui  dit:  M.  le 
jMaredial,  on  ne  travaillc  que  pour  approc/ier  de  la  reputation  que 
vous  avez  acquise :  il  est  agreahle  de  se  reposcr  apr^s  tants  de  vic- 
toires.' " 

§  This  great  general  was  killed  Julj-  27,  1675,  hy  a  cannon-shot,  near 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


37 


were  his  majors  general.  Fortified  places  were  treated 
with  some  respect,  before  a  power  which  nothing  can 
withstand  had  found  means  to  destroy  them  by  dreadful 
showers  of  bombs,  and  by  destructive  batteries  of  hun- 
dreds of  pieces  of  cannon.  Before  these  furious  storms 
which  drive  governors  under  ground  and  reduce  their 
garrisons  to  powder,  repeated  sallies  bravely  repulsed, 
and  vigorous  attacks  nobly  sustained,  signalized  both 
the  art  of  the  besiegers  and  the  courage  of  the  besieged  ; 
consequently,  sieges  were  of  some  length,  and  young 
men  had  an  opportunity  of  gaining  some  knowledge. 
Many  brave  actions  were  performed  on  each  side  during 
the  siege  of  Trino  ;  a  great  deal  of  fatigue  was  endured, 
and  considerable  losses  sustained  ;  but  fatigue  was  no 


the  village  of  Salzbach,  in  going  to  choose  a  place  whereon  to  erect  a 
battery.  "No  one,"  says  Voltaire,  "is  ignorant  of  the  circumstances 
of  his  death  ;  but  we  cannot  here  refrain  from  a  review  of  the  principal 
of  them,  for  the  same  reason  that  they  are  still  talked  of  every  day.  It 
seems  as  if  one  could  not  too  often  repeat,  that  the  same  bullet  which 
killed  him,  having  shot  off  the  arm  of  St.  Hilaire,  lieutenant-general 
of  the  artillery,  his  son  came  and  bewailed  his  misfortune  with  many 
tears  ;  but  the  fatlier,  looking  towards  Turenne,  said  :  '  It  is  not  I,  but 
that  great  man,  who  should  be  lamented.'  These  words  may  be  com- 
pared with  the  most  heroic  sayings  recorded  in  all  histor}-,  and  are  the 
best  eulogy  that  can  be  bestowed  upon  Turenne.  It  is  uncommon,  un- 
der a  despotic  government,  where  peojile  are  actuated  only  by  their 
private  interests,  for  those  who  have  served  their  country  to  die  re- 
gretted by  the  public.  Nevertheless,  Turenne  was  lamented  both  by 
the  soldiers  and  people ;  and  Louvois  was  the  only  one  who  rejoiced 
at  his  death.  The  honors  which  the  king  ordered  to  be  paid  to  his 
memory  are  known  to  every  one  ;  and  that  he  was  interred  at  St.  Denis, 
in  the  same  manner  as  the  Constable  du  Guesclin,  above  whom  he  was 
elevated  by  the  voice  of  the  public,  as  much  as  the  age  of  Turenne  was 
superior  to  the  age  of  the  constable." 

In  former  editions,  the  quotation  from  Voltaire  was  yet  longer.  It 
is  more  germane  to  the  present  matter  to  obser\-e,  that  it  appears,  from 
the  Memoirs  of  St.  Hilaire,  where  Voltaire  found  his  anecdote,  that 
Count  Hamilton  was  present  at  the  death  of  Turenne.  Monsieur  de 
Boze  had  twice  sent  to  Turenne,  to  beg  him  to  come  to  the  place  where 
the  battery  was  to  be  erected,  which  Turenne,  as  if  bj'  presentiment, 
declined.    Count  Hamilton  brought  the  third  au.\ious  retjuest  from  De 


38 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


more  considered,  hardships  were  uo  more  felt  in  the 
trenches,  gravity  was  at  an  end  with  the  generals,  and 
the  troops  were  no  longer  dispirited  after  the  arrival  of 
the  Chevalier  Grammont.  Pleasure  was  his  pursuit, 
and  he  made  it  universal. 

Among  the  officers  in  the  army,  as  in  all  other  places, 
there  are  men  of  real  merit,  or  pretenders  to  it.  The 
latter  endeavored  to  imitate  the  Chevalier  Grammont  in 
his  most  shining  qualities,  but  without  success  ;  the 
former  admired  his  talents  and  courted  his  friendship. 
Of  this  number  was  Matta  :  *  He  was  agreeable  in  his 
person,  but  still  more  by  the  natural  turn  of  his  wit ;  he 

Boze  ;  and  in  riding  to  the  place  where  he  was,  Tnrenne  received  his 
death-blow.  The  horse  of  Moutecuculi,  the  opposite  general,  was,  in 
the  course  of  the  same  day,  killed  by  a  cannon-shot. 

*  Matta,  or  Hatha,  of  whom  Hamilton  has  drawn  so  striking  a  pict- 
ure, is  said  to  have  been  of  the  house  of  Bourdeille,  which  had  the 
honor  to  produce  Brantome  and  Montresor.  The  combination  of  in- 
dolence and  talent,  of  wit  and  simplicity,  of  bluutness  and  irony,  with 
which  he  is  represented,  may  have  been  derived  from  tradition,  but 
could  only  have  been  united  into  the  inimitable  whole  by  the  pen  of 
Hamilton.  Several  of  his  bous-inols  have  been  preserved;  but  the 
spirit  evaporates  in  translation.  "  Where  could  I  get  this  nose  ?  "  said 
Madame  D'Albret,  observing  a  slight  tendency  to  a  flush  in  that  feat- 
ure. "At  the  sideboard,  Madame,"  answered  Matta.  When  the  same 
lad}',  in  despair  at  her  brother's  death,  refused  all  nourishment,  Matta 
administered  this  blunt  consolation:  "If  you  are  resolved,  Madame, 
never  again  to  swallow  food,  you  do  well  ;  but  if  ever  you  mean  to  eat 
upon  any  future  occasion,  believe  me,  you  may  as  well  begin  just  now." 
Madame  Caylus,  in  her  Souvenirs,  commemorates  the  simple  and  nat- 
ural humor  of  Matta  as  rendering  him  the  most  delightful  society  in 
the  world.  Mademoiselle,  in  her  Memoirs,  alludes  to  his  pleasantry  in 
conversation,  and  turn  for  deep  gaming.  When  the  Memoirs  of  Gram- 
mont were  subjected  to  the  examination  of  Foutanelle,  then  censor  of 
the  Parisian  press,  he  refused  to  license  them,  on  account  of  the  scan- 
dalous conduct  imputed  to  Grammont  in  this  party  at  quinze.  The 
Count  no  sooner  heard  of  this  than  he  hastened  to  Foutanelle,  and 
having  joked  him  for  being  more  tender  of  his  reputation  than  he  was 
himself,  the  license  was  instantly  issued.  The  censor  might  have  re- 
torted upon  Grammont  the  answer  which  the  Count  made  to  a  widow 
who  received  coldly  his  compliments  of  condolence  on  her  husband's 
death  :  "  Nay,  Madame,  if  that  is  the  way  you  take  it,  I  care  as  little 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


39 


was  plain  and  simple  in  his  manners,  but  endued  with 
a  quick  discernment  and  refined  delicacy,  and  full  of 
candor  and  integrity  in  all  his  actions.  The  Chevalier 
Grammont  was  not  long  in  discovering  his  amiable 
qualities ;  an  acquaintance  was  soon  fomied,  and  was 
succeeded  by  the  strictest  intimacy. 

Matta  insisted  that  the  Chevalier  should  take  up  his 
quarters  with  him  ;  to  which  he  only  consented  on  con- 
dition of  equally  contributing  to  the  expense.  As  they 
were  both  liberal  and  magnificent,  at  their  common  cost 
they  gave  the  best  designed  and  most  luxurious  enter- 
tainments that  had  ever  }  et  been  seen.  Play  was  won- 
derfully productive  at  first,  and  the  Chevalier  restored  by 
a  hundred  different  ways  that  which  he  obtained  only  by 
one.  The  generals,  being  entertained  by  turns,  admired 
their  magnificence,  and  were  dissatisfied  with  their  own 
officers  for  not  keeping  such  good  tables  and  attendance. 
The  Chevalier  had  the  talent  of  setting  off  the  most 
indifferent  things  to  advantage  ;  and  his  wit  was  so  gen- 
erally acknowledged,  that  it  was  a  kind  of  disgrace  not 
to  submit  to  his  taste.  To  him  Matta  resigned  the  care 
of  furnishing  the  table  and  doing  its  honors  ;  and, 
charmed  with  the  general  applause,  persuaded  himself 
that  nothing  could  be  more  honorable  than  their  way  of 
living,  and  nothing  more  easy  than  to  continue  it  ;  but 
he  soon  perceived  that  the  greatest  prosperity  is  not  the 
most  lasting.  Good  living,  bad  economy,  dishonest  ser- 
vants, and  ill  luck,  all  uniting  together  to  disconcert 
their  housekeeping,  their  table  was  going  to  be  gradually 
laid  aside,  when  the  Chevalier's  genius,  fertile  in  re- 
sources, undertook  to  support  his  former  credit  by  the 
following  expedient. 

They  had  never  yet  conferred  about  the  state  of  their 


about  it  as  you  do."  He  died  in  1674.  "  Matta  est  mort  sans  confes- 
sion," sa3-s  Madame  Mainteuon,  in  a  letter  to  her  brother.  Tome  I., 
p.  67. 


40 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


finances,  althou<^h  the  steward  had  acquainted  each, 
separately,  that  he  must  either  receive  money  to  continue 
the  expenses,  or  give  in  his  accounts.  One  day,  when 
the  Chevalier  came  home  sooner  than  usual,  he  found 
Matta  fast  asleep  in  an  easy  chair,  and,  being  unwilling 
to  disturb  his  rest,  he  began  musing  on  his  project. 
Matta  awoke  without  his  perceiving  it  ;  and  having,  for 
a  short  time,  observed  the  deep  contemplation  he  seemed 
involved  in,  and  the  profound  silence  between  two  per- 
sons who  had  never  held  their  tongues  for  a  moment 
when  together  before,  he  broke  it  by  a  sudden  fit  of 
laughter,  which  increased  in  proportion  as  the  other 
stared  at  him.  "A  merry  way  of  waking,  and  ludicrous 
enough,"  said  the  Chevalier,  "what  is  the  matter,  and 
whom  do  you  laugh  at?"  "Faith,  Chevalier,"  said 
Matta,  "I  am  laughing  at  a  dream  I  had  just  now,  which 
is  so  natural  and  diverting,  that  I  must  make  you  laugh 
at  it  also.  I  was  dreaming  that  we  had  dismissed  our 
maitre-d' hotel,  our  cook,  and  our  confectioner,  having 
resolved,  for  the  remainder  of  the  campaign,  to  live  upon 
others  as  others  have  lived  upon  us  :  this  was  my  dream. 
Now  tell  me.  Chevalier,  on  what  were  you  musing?" 
"Poor  fellow!"  said  the  Chevalier,  shrugging  up  his 
shoulders,  "you  are  knocked  down  at  once,  and  thrown 
into  the  utmost  consternation  and  despair  at  some  silly 
stories  which  the  maitre-d' hotel  has  been  telling  you  as 
well  as  me.  What !  after  the  figure  we  have  made  in  the 
face  of  the  nobilit}^  and  foreigners  in  the  army,  shall  we 
give  it  up,  and  like  fools  and  beggars  sneak  off,  upon  the 
first  failure  of  our  money  !  Have  you  no  sentiments  of 
honor?  Where  is  the  dignity  of  France  ?  "  "And  where 
is  the  money?"  said  Matta  ;  "for  my  men  say,  the  devil 
may  take  them,  if  there  be  ten  crowns  in  the  house  ;  and 
I  believe  you  have  not  much  more,  for  it  is  above  a  week 
since  I  have  seen  you  pull  out  your  purse,  or  count  your 
money,  an  amusement  you  were  very  fond  of  in  prosper- 
ity."   "I  own  all  this,"  said  the  Chevalier,  "but  yet  I 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


41 


will  force  yoti  to  confess,  that  you  are  but  a  mean-spirited 
fellow  upon  this  occasion.  What  would  have  become  of 
you  if  you  had  been  reduced  to  the  situation  I  was  in  at 
Lyons,  four  days  before  I  arrived  here  ?  I  will  tell  you 
the  story. ' ' 


1 


CHAPTER  III. 

"This,"  said  Matta,  "smells  strongly  of  romance, 
except  that  it  slionld  have  been  your  squire's  part  to  tell 
your  adventures."  "True,"  said  the  Chevalier  ;  '  how- 
ever, I  may  acquaint  you  with  niy  first  exploits  without 
offending  my  modesty  ;  besides,  my  squire's  style  borders 
too  much  upon  the  burlesque  for  an  heroic  narrative. 

"You  must  know,  then,  that  upon  my  arrival  at 
Lyons — "  "Is  it  thus  you  begin?"  said  Matta. 
"Pray  give  us  your  history  a  little  farther  back.  The 
most  minute  particulars  of  a  life  like  yours  are  worthy  of 
relation  ;  but,  above  all,  the  manner  in  which  you  first 
paid  vour  respects  to  Cardinal  Richelieu  :  I  have  often 
laughed  at  it.  However,  )  ou  may  pass  over  the  unlucky 
pranks  of  your  infancy,  your  genealog)-,  name  and  qual- 
itv  of  \  our  ancestors,  for  that  is  a  subject  with  which  you 
must  be  utterly  unacquainted." 

"Pooh!"  said  the  Chevalier;  "you  think  that  all  the 
world  is  as  ignorant  as  yourself; — you  think  that  I  am  a 
stranger  to  the  Mendores  and  the  Corisandes.  So,  per- 
haps I  don't  know  that  it  was  my  father's  own  fault  that 
he  was  not  the  son  of  Henry  IV.  The  King  would  by 
(42) 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


43 


all  means  have  acknowledged  him  for  his  son,  bnt  the 
traitor  would  never  consent  to  it.  See  what  the  Gram- 
nionts  would  have  been  now,  but  for  this  cross-grained 
fellow  !  They  would  have  had  precedence  of  the  Caesars 
de  Vendome.*  You  may  laugh,  if  you  like,  yet  it  is  as 
true  as  the  gospel:  but  let  us  come  to  the  point. 

"  I  was  sent  to  the  college  of  Pau,t  with  the  intention 
of  being  brought  up  to  the  church  ;  but  as  I  had  quite 
different  views,  I  made  no  manner  of  improvement : 
gaming  was  so  much  in  my  head,  that  both  my  tutor  and 
the  master  lost  their  labor  in  endeavoring  to  teach  me 
lyatin.  Old  Brinon,  who  served  me  both  as  valet-de- 
chambre  and  governor,  in  vain  threatened  to  acquaint 
my  mother.  I  only  studied  when  I  pleased,  that  is  to 
say,  seldom  or  never  :  however,  they  treated  me  as  is 
customary  with  scholars  of  my  quality  ;  I  was  raised  to 
all  the  dignities  of  the  forms,  without  having  merited 
them,  and  left  college  nearly  in  the  same  state  in  which 
I  entered  it ;  nevertheless,  I  was  thought  to  have  more 
knowledge  than  was  requisite  for  the  abbacy  which  my 
brother  had  solicited  for  me.  He  had  just  married  the 
niece  of  a  minister,  to  whom  every  one  cringed  :  he  was 
desirous  to  present  me  to  him.  I  felt  but  little  regret  to 
quit  the  country,  and  great  impatience  to  see  Paris.  My 
brother  having  kept  me  some  time  with  him,  in  order  to 
polish  me,  let  me  loose  upon  the  towm  to  shake  off  my 
rustic  air,  and  learn  the  manners  of  the  world.  I  so 
thoroughly  gained  them,  that  I  could  not  be  persuaded 
to  lay  them  aside  when  I  was  introduced  at  court  in  the 


*  Coesar,  Duke  de  Vendome,  was  the  eldest  son  of  Henry  IV.,  by  the 
celebrated  Gabrielle  d'Estrees.    He  died  in  1665. 

t  Pau  was  the  capital  of  the  principality  of  Bearne,  and  lies  on  an 
eminence  on  the  Gave  Bearnois,  being  indeed  small  and  well  built,  and 
formerly  the  seat  of  a  parliament,  a  bailiwick,  and  a  chamber  of  ac- 
counts. In  the  palace  here  was  born  Henry  IV.  Exclusive  of  an  acad- 
emy of  sciences  and  liberal  arts,  there  was  in  it  a  college  of  Jesuits,  with 
five  convents  and  two  hospitals. 

^- 


44 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT, 


character  of  an  Abbe.  You  know  what  kind  of  dress 
was  then  the  fashion.  All  that  they  conld  obtain  of  me 
was  to  put  a  cassock  over  niy  other  clothes,  and  my 
brother,  ready  to  die  with  laughing  at  my  ecclesiastical 
habit,  made  others  laugh  too.  I  had  the  finest  head  of 
hair  in  the  world,  well  curled  and  powdered,  above 
m\-  cassock  and  below  were  white  buskins  and  gilt  spurs. 
The  Cardinal,  who  had  a  quick  discernment,  could  not 
help  laughing.  This  elevation  of  sentiment  gave  him 
umbrage  ;  and  he  foresaw  what  might  be  expected  from 
a  genius  that  already  laughed  at  the  sha\-en  crown  and 
cowl. 

"When  my  brother  had  taken  me  home,  'Well,  my 
little  parson,'  said  he,  'you  have  acted  your  part  to  ad- 
miration, and  your  parti-colored  dress  of  the  ecclesiastic 
and  soldier  has  greatly  diverted  the  court  ;  but  this  is  not 
all  :  you  mtist  now  choose,  my  little  knight.  Consider 
then,  whether,  by  sticking  to  the  church,  }  ou  will  pos- 
sess great  revenues,  and  have  nothing  to  do  ;  or,  with 
a  small  portion,  you  will  risk  the  loss  of  a  leg  or  arm, 
and  be  the  fructus  belli  of  an  insensible  court,  to  arrive  in 
your  old  age  at  the  dignity  of  a  major-general,  with  a 
glass  eye  and  a  wooden  leg.'  'I  know,'  said  I,  'that  there 
is  no  comparison  between  these  two  situations,  with  re- 
gard to  the  conveniences  of  life  ;  but  as  a  man  ought  to 
secure  his  future  state  in  preference  to  all  other  consider- 
ations, I  am  resolved  to  renounce  the  church  for  the  sal- 
vation of  my  soul,  iipon  condition,  however,  that  I  keep 
my  abbacy.'  Neither  the  remonstrances  nor  authority 
of  my  brother  could  induce  me  to  change  my  resolution  ; 
and  he  was  forced  to  agree  to  this  last  article  in  order  to 
keep  me  at  the  academy.  You  know  that  I  am  the  most 
adroit  man  in  France,  so  that  I  soon  learned  all  that  is 
taught  at  stich  places,  and,  at  the  same  time,  I  also 
learnt  that  which  gives  the  finishing  stroke  to  a  young 
fellow's  education,  and  makes  him  a  gentleman,  viz.,  all 
sorts  of  games,  both  at  cards  and  dice  ;  but  the  truth  is, 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  ORAMMONT. 


45 


I  thought,  at  first,  that  I  had  more  skill  iv.  them  than  I 
really  had,  as  experience  proved.  When  my  mother 
knew  the  choice  I  had  made,  she  was  inconsolable  ;  for 
she  reckoned,  that  had  I  been  a  clergyman  I  shonld  have 
been  a  saint  ;  bnt  now  she  was  certain  th  at  I  should  either 
be  a  devil  in  the  world,  or  be  killed  in  the  wars.  And 
indeed  I  burned  with  impatience  to  be  a  soldier  ;  but 
being  )-et  too  young,  I  was  forced  to  make  a  campaign  at 
Bidache  *  before  I  made  one  in  the  army.  When  I  re- 
turned to  my  mother's  house,  I  had  so  much  the  air  of  a 
courtier  and  a  man  of  the  world,  that  she  began  to  respect 
nie  instead  of  chiding  me  for  my  infatuation  towards  the 
army.  I  became  her  favorite,  and  finding  me  inflexible, 
she  only  thought  of  keeping  me  with  her  as  long  as  she 
could,  while  my  little  equipage  was  preparing.  The 
faithful  Brinon,  who  was  to  attend  me  as  valet-de-cham- 
bre,  was  likewise  to  discharge  the  office  of  governor  and 
equerry,  being,  perhaps,  the  only  Gascon  who  was  ever 
possessed  of  so  much  gravity  and  ill-temper.  He  passed 
his  word  for  my  good  behavior  and  moralit}',  and  prom- 
ised my  mother  that  he  would  give  a  good  account  of  my 
person  in  the  dangers  of  the  war  ;  but  I  hope  he  will 
keep  his  word  better  as  to  this  last  article  than  he  has 
done  as  to  the  former. 

"My  equipage  was  sent  away  a  week  before  me.  This 
was  so  much  time  gained  by  my  mother  to  give  me  good 
advice.  At  length,  after  having  solemnly  enjoined  me 
to  have  the  fear  of  God  before  my  eyes,  and  to  love  my 
neighbor  as  myself,  she  suffered  me  to  depart,  inider  the 
protection  of  the  Lord  and  the  sage  Brinon.  At  the  sec- 
ond stage  we  quarrelled.  He  had  received  four  hun- 
dred louis  d'or  for  the  expenses  of  the  campaign:  I 
wished  to  have  the  keeping  of  them  myself,  which  he 
strenuously  opposed.  'Thou  old  scoiindrel,'  said  I,  'is 
the  money  thine,  or  was  it  given  thee  for  me?   You  sup- 


*  A  principality  belonging  to  the  family  of  the  Graninionts,  in  the 
proviuce  of  Gascony. 


46 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


pose  I  must  have  a  treasurer,  and  receive  no  money  with- 
out his  order. '  I  know  not  whether  it  was  from  a  present- 
iment of  what  afterwards  happened  that  he  grew  melan- 
choly; however  it  was  with  the  greatest  rehictance  and  the 
most  poignant  anguish,  that  he  found  himself  obliged 
to  yield.  One  would  have  thought  that  I  had  wrested 
his  very  soul  from  hini.  I  found  myself  more  light  and 
merr>'  after  I  had  eased  him  of  his  trust  ;  he,  on  the  con- 
trary, appeared  so  overwhelmed  with  grief,  that  it  seemed 
as  if  I  had  laid  four  hundred  pounds  of  lead  upon  his 
back,  instead  of  taking  away  these  four  hundred  louis. 
He  went  on  so  heavily,  that  I  was  forced  to  whip  his 
horse  myself,  and  turning  to  me,  now  and  then,  'Ah  ! 
sir,'  said  he,  'my  lady  did  not  think  it  would  be  so.' 
His  reflections  and  sorrows  were  renewed  at  ever}-  stage; 
for,  instead  of  giving  a  shilling  to  the  post-boy,  I  gave 
him  half-a-crown. 

"Having  at  last  reached  Lyons,  two  soldiers  stopped 
us  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  to  carry  us  before  the  gover- 
nor. I  took  one  of  them  to  condiict  me  to  the  best  inn, 
and  delivered  Brinon  into  the  hands  of  the  other,  to  ac- 
quaint the  commandant  with  the  particulars  of  my  jour- 
ney, and  my  future  intentions. 

"There  are  as  good  taverns  at  Lyons  as  at  Paris  ;  but 
my  soldier,  according  to  custom,  carried  me  to  a  friend 
of  his  own,  whose  house  he  extolled  as  having  the  best 
accommodations,  and  the  greatest  resort  of  good  company 
in  the  whole  town.  The  master  of  this  hotel  was  as  big 
as  a  hogshead,  his  name  Cerise  ;  a  Swiss  by  birth,  a  poi- 
soner by  profession,  and  a  thief  by  custcm.  He  .showed 
me  into  a  tolerably  neat  room,  and  desired  to  know 
whether  I  pleased  to  sup  by  myself  or  at  the  ordinary. 
I  chose  the  latter,  on  account  of  the  beau  monde  which 
the  soldier  had  boasted  of. 

"Brinon,  who  was  quite  out  of  temper  at  the  many 
questions  which  the  governor  had  asked  him,  returned 
more  surl)-  than  an  old  ape  ;  and  seeing  that  I  was  dress- 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


47 


iiig  my  hair,  in  order  to  go  downstairs  :  '  What  are  you 
about  now,  sir  ?'  said  he.  'Are  you  going  to  tramp  aboiit 
the  town  ?  No,  no  ;  have  we  not  had  tramping  enough 
ever  since  the  morning?  Eat  a  bit  of  supper,  and  go  to 
bed  betimes,  that  }-ou  may  get  on  horseback  by  day- 
break.' 'Mr.  Comptroller,'  said  I,  '  I  shall  neither  tramp 
about  the  town,  nor  eat  alone,  nor  go  to  bed  early.  I 
intend  to  sup  with  the  company  below.'  'At  the  ordi- 
nary !'  cried  he  ;  'I  beseech  you,  sir,  do  not  think  of  it  ! 
Devil  take  me,  if  there  be  not  a  dozen  brawling  fellows 
playing  at  cards  and  dice,  who  make  noise  enough  to 
drown  the  loudest  thunder  ! ' 

"  I  was  grown  insolent  since  I  had  seized  the  money  ; 
and  being  desirous  to  shake  off  the  yoke  of  a  governor, 
'  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Brinon,'  .said  I,  '  that  I  don't  like  a 
blockhead  to  set  up  for  a  reasoner  ?  Do  you  go  to  sup- 
per, if  you  please  ;  but  take  care  that  I  have  post-horses 
ready  before  daybreak.'  The  moment  he  mentioned 
cards  and  dice,  I  felt  the  money  burn  in  my  pocket.  I 
was  somewhat  surprised,  however,  to  find  the  room  where 
the  ordinary  was  served  filled  with  odd-looking  creatures. 
My  host,  after  presenting  me  to  the  company,  assured 
me  that  there  were  but  eighteen  or  twenty  of  those  gen- 
tlemen who  would  have  the  honor  to  sup  with  me.  I 
approached  one  of  the  tables  where  they  were  playing, 
and  thought  I  should  have  died  with  laughing  :  I  ex- 
pected to  have  seen  good  company  and  deep  play  ;  but  I 
only  met  with  two  Germans  playing  at  backgammon. 
Never  did  two  coimtry  loobies  play  like  them  ;  but  their 
figures  beggared  all  description.  The  fellow  near  whom 
I  stood  was  short,  thick,  and  fat,  and  as  round  as  a  ball, 
with  a  ruflF,  and  prodigious  high-crowned  hat.  Any  one, 
at  a  moderate  distance,  would  have  taken  him  for  the 
dome  of  a  church,  with  the  steeple  on  the  top  of  it.  I 
inquired  of  the  host  who  he  was.  'A  merchant  from 
Basle,'  said  he,  'who  comes  hither  to  sell  horses;  but 
from  the  method  he  jmrsues,  I  think  he  will  not  dispose 


48 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


of  many  ;  for  he  does  nothing  but  play, '  '  Does  he  play 
deep  ?  '  said  I.  '  Not  now, '  said  he  ;  '  they  are  only  play- 
ing for  their  reckoning,  while  supper  is  getting  ready  ; 
but  he  has  no  objection  to  play  as  deep  as  any  one.' 
'Has  he  money?'  said  I.  'As  for  that,'  replied  the 
treacherous  Cerise,  '  would  to  God  you  had  won  a  thou- 
sand pistoles  of  him,  and  I  went  your  halves  ;  we  should 
not  be  long  without  our  money. '  I  wanted  no  further 
encouragement  to  meditate  the  ruin  of  the  high-crowned 
hat.  I  went  nearer  to  him,  in  order  to  take  a  closer  sur- 
vey ;  never  was  such  a  bungler  ;  he  made  blots  upon 
blots  ;  God  knows,  I  began  to  feel  some  remorse  at  win- 
ning of  such  an  ignoramus,  who  knew  so  little  of  the 
game.  He  lost  his  reckoning  ;  supper  was  served  up  ; 
and  I  desired  him  to  sit  next  me.  It  was  a  long  table, 
and  there  were  at  least  five-and-twenty  in  com])any,  not- 
withstanding the  landlord's  promise.  The  most  ex- 
ecrable repast  that  ever  was  begun  being  finished,  all  the 
crowd  insensibly  dispersed,  except  the  little  Swiss,  who 
still  kept  near  me,  and  the  landlord,  who  placed  him- 
self on  the  other  side  of  me.  They  both  smoked  like 
dragoons  ;  and  the  Swiss  was  continually  saying,  in  bad 
French,  'I  ask  your  pardon,  sir,  for  my  great  freedom,' 
at  the  same  time  blowing  such  whiffs  of  tol)acco  in  my 
face  as  almost  suffocated  mc.  Mr.  Cerise,  on  the  other 
hand,  desired  he  might  take  the  liberty  of  asking  me 
whether  I  had  ever  been  in  his  countr\-  ?  and  seemed 
surprised  I  had  so  genteel  an  air,  without  having  travelled 
in  Switzerland. 

"The  little  chub  I  had  to  encounter  was  full  as  in- 
quisitive as  the  other.  He  desired  to  know  whether  I 
came  from  the  army  in  Piedmont  ;  and  having  told  him 
I  was  going  thither,  he  asked  me,  whether  I  had  a  mind 
to  buy  any  horses  ;  that  he  had  about  two  hundred  to 
dispose  of,  and  that  he  would  sell  them  cheap.  I  began 
to  be  smoked  like  a  gammon  of  bacon  ;  and  being  quite 
wearied  out,  both  with  their  tobacco  and  tlieir  questions, 


c  of  LOP r 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


49 


I  asked  my  companion  if  he  would  play  for  a  single  pis- 
tole at  backgammon,  while  our  men  were  supping  ;  it 
was  not  without  great  ceremony  that  he  consented,  at 
the  same  time  asking  my  pardon  for  his  great  freedom. 

"  I  won  the  game  ;  I  gave  him  his  revenge,  and  won 
again.  We  then  plaj  ed  double  or  quit  ;  I  won  that  too, 
and  all  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  ;  for  he  grew  vexed, 
and  suifered  himself  to  be  taken  in  so  that  I  began  to 
bless  my  stars  for  my  good  fortune.  Brinon  came  in 
about  the  end  of  the  third  game,  to  put  me  to  bed ;  he 
made  a  great  sign  of  the  cross,  but  paid  no  attention  to 
the  signs  I  made  l  im  to  retire.  I  was  forced  to  rise  to 
give  him  that  order  in  private.  He  began  to  reprimand 
me  for  disgracing  myself  by  keeping  company  with  such 
a  low-bred  wretch.  It  was  in  vain  that  I  told  him  he 
was  a  great  merchant,  that  he  had  a  great  deal  of  money, 
and  that  he  played  like  a  child.  '  He  a  merchant  ! '  cried 
Brinon.  '  Do  not  believe  that,  sir  !  May  the  devil  take 
me,  if  he  is  not  some  conjurer.'  '  Hold  your  tongue,  old 
fool,'  said  I  ;  'he  is  no  more  a  conjurer  than  you  are, 
and  that  is  decisive  ;  and,  to  prove  it  to  you,  I  am  re- 
solved to  win  four  or  five  hundred  pistoles  of  him  before 
I  go  to  bed.'  With  these  words  I  turned  him  out,  strictly 
enjoining  him  not  to  return,  or  in  any  manner  to  disturb 
us. 

"The  game  being  done,  the  little  Swiss  unbuttoned 
his  pockets,  to  pull  out  a  new  four-pistole  piece,  and 
presenting  it  to  me,  he  asked  my  pardon  for  his  great 
freedom,  and  seemed  as  if  he  wished  to  retire.  This  was 
not  what  I  wanted.  I  told  him  we  only  played  for 
amusement  ;  that  I  had  no  design  upon  his  money  ;  and 
that,  if  he  pleased,  I  would  play  him  a  single  game  for 
his  four  pistoles.  He  raised  some  objections  ;  but  con- 
sented at  last,  and  won  back  his  money.  I  was  piqued 
at  it.  I  played  another  game  ;  fortune  changed  sides  ; 
the  dice  ran  for  him,  he  made  no  more  blots.  I  lost  the 
game  ;  another  game,  and  double  or  quit  ;  we  doubled 
4 


50 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT, 


the  stake,  and  plaj  ed  double  or  quit  again.  I  was  vexed  ; 
he,  like  a  true  gamester,  took  every  bet  I  offered,  and 
won  all  before  him,  without  my  getting  more  than  six 
points  in  eight  or  ten  games.  I  asked  him  to  play  a 
single  game  for  one  hundred  pistoles  ;  but  as  he  saw  I 
did  not  stake,  he  told  me  it  was  late  ;  that  he  must  go 
and  look  after  his  horses  ;  and  went  away,  still  asking 
my  pardon  for  his  great  freedom.  The  cool  manner  of 
his  refusal,  and  the  politeness  with  which  he  took  his 
leave,  provoked  me  to  such  a  degree,  that  I  could  almost 
have  killed  him.  I  was  so  confounded  at  losing  my 
money  so  fast,  even  to  the  last  pistole,  that  I  did  not 
immediately  consider  the  miserable  situation  to  which  I 
was  reduced. 

"  I  durst  not  go  up  to  my  chamber  for  fear  of  Brinon. 
By  good  luck,  however,  he  was  tired  with  waiting  for 
me,  and  had  gone  to  bed.  This  was  some  consolation, 
though  but  of  short  continuance.  As  soon  as  I  was  laid 
down,  all  the  fatal  consequences  of  my  adventure  pre- 
sented themselves  to  my  imagination.  I  could  not  sleep. 
I  saw  all  the  horrors  of  my  misfortune,  withotit  being 
able  to  find  any  remedy  ;  in  vain  did  I  rack  my  brain  ;  it 
supplied  me  with  no  expedient.  I  feared  nothing  .so 
much  as  daybreak  ;  however,  it  did  come,  and  the  cruel 
Brinon  along  with  it.  He  was  booted  up  to  the  middle, 
and  cracking  a  cursed  whip,  which  he  held  in  his  hand, 
'Up,  Monsieur  le  Chevalier,'  cried  he,  opening  the  cur- 
tains ;  '  the  hor-ses  are  at  the  door,  and  you  are  still 
asleep.  We  ought  by  this  time  to  have  ridden  two  stages  ; 
give  me  money  to  pay  the  reckoning.'  '  Brinon,'  .said  I, 
in  a  dejected  tone,  '  draw  the  curtains.'  'What!'  cried 
he,  '  draw  the  curtains  !  Do  you  intend,  then,  to  make 
your  campaign  at  L^  ons  ?  you  seem  to  have  taken  a  lik- 
ing to  the  place.  And  for  the  great  merchant,  you  have 
stripped  him,  I  suppose?  No,  no.  Monsieur  le  Chevalier, 
this  money  will  never  do  you  any  good.  This  wretch 
has,  perhaps,  a  family  ;  and  it  is  his  children's  bread 


MEMOIRS  OF  COI'NT  CRAMMONT. 


51 


that  he  has  been  playing  with,  and  that  you  have  won. 
Was  this  an  object  to  sit  up  all  night  for?  What  would 
my  lady  say,  if  she  knew  what  a  life  you  lead?'  ' 
Brinon,'  said  I,  'pray  draw  the  curtains.'  But  instead 
of  obeying  me,  one  would  have  thought  that  the  devil 
had  prompted  him  to  use  the  most  pointed  and  galling 
terms  to  a  person  under  such  misfortunes.  'And  how 
much  have  you  won  ?  '  said  he  ;  '  five  hundred  pistoles? 
what  must  the  poor  man  do?  Recollect,  Monsieur  le 
Chevalier,  what  I  have  said,  this  money  will  never  thrive 
with  you.  It  is,  perhaps,  but  foiir  hundred?  three?  two? 
well  if  it  be  but  one  hundred  louis  d'or, '  continued  he, 
seeing  that  I  shook  my  head  at  every  sum  which  he  had 
named,  '  there  is  no  great  mischief  done  ;  one  hundred 
pistoles  will  not  ruin  him,  provided  }-ou  have  won  them 
fairly.'  'Friend  Brinon,'  said  I,  fetching  a  deep  sigh, 
'  draw  the  curtains  ;  I  am  unworthy  to  see  daylight. ' 
Brinon  was  much  affected  at  these  melancholy  words, 
but  I  thought  he  would  have  fainted,  when  I  told  him 
the  whole  adventure.  He  tore  his  hair,  made  grievous 
lamentations,  the  burden  of  which  still  was,  '  What  will 
my  lady  say  ? '  And,  after  having  exhausted  his  un- 
profitable complaints,  '  What  will  become  of  you  now, 
Monsieur  le  Chevalier?'  said  he,  '  what  do  you  intend  to 
do?'  '  Nothing,'  said  I,  '  for  I  am  fit  for  nothing.'  After 
this,  being  somewhat  eased  after  making  him  my  confes- 
sion, I  thought  upon  several  projects,  to  none  of  which 
could  I  gain  his  approbation.  I  would  have  had  him 
post  after  my  equipage,  to  have  sold  some  of  my  clothes. 
I  was  for  proposing  to  the  horse-dealer  to  buy  some 
horses  of  him  at  a  high  price  on  credit,  to  sell  again 
cheap.  Brinon  laughed  at  all  the.se  schemes,  and  after 
having  had  the  cruelty  of  keeping  me  upon  the  rack  for 
a  long  time,  he  at  last  extricated  me.  Parents  are  always 
stingy  towards  their  poor  children  ;  m\'  mother  intended 
to  have  given  me  five  hundred  louis  d'or,  but  she  had 
kept  back  fifty,  as  well  for  some  little  repairs  in  the 


52 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


abbey,  as  to  pay  for  praying  for  ine.  Brinoii  had  the 
charge  of  the  other  fifty,  witli  strict  injunctions  not  to 
speak  of  them,  unless  upon  some  urgent  necessity.  And 
this  you  see  soon  happened. 

"Thus  you  have  a  brief  account  of  niy  first  adven- 
ture. Play  has  hitherto  favored  mc  ;  for,  since  my 
arrival,  I  have  had,  at  one  time,  after  paying  all  my  ex- 
penses, fifteen  hundred  louis  d"or.  Fortune  is  now 
again  become  unfavorable  :  we  nnist  mend  her.  Our 
cash  runs  low  ;  we  must,  therefore,  endeavor  to  recruit." 

"  Nothing  is  more  easy,"  said  INIatta  ;  "it  is  only  to 
find  out  such  another  dupe  as  the  horse-dealer  at  Lyons  ; 
but  now  I  think  on  it,  has  not  the  faithful  Brinon  some 
reserve  for  the  last  extremity?  Faith,  the  time  is  now 
come,  and  we  cannot  do  better  than  to  make  use  of  it." 

"  Your  raillery  woiild  be  very  seasonable,"  said  this 
Chevalier,  "  if  you  knew  how  to  extricate  us  out  of  the 
difficulty.  You  must  certainly  have  an  overflow  of  wit, 
to  be  throwing  it  away  upon  every  occasion  as  at  present. 
What  the  devil  !  will  you  always  be  bantering,  without 
considering  what  a  serioiis  situation  we  are  reduced  to. 
Mind  what  I  say,  I  will  go  to-morrow  to  the  head- 
quarters, I  will  dine  with  the  Count  de  Canieran,  and  I 
will  invite  him  to  supper."  "Where?"  said  I\Iatta. 
"Here,"  said  the  Chevalier.  "  You  are  mad,  my  poor 
friend,"  replied  Matta.  "  This  is  some  such  project  as 
you  formed  at  L}'ons  :  you  know  we  have  neither  money 
nor  credit  ;  and,  to  re-establish  our  circumstances,  you 
intend  to  give  a  supper." 

"  Stupid  fellow  !  "  said  the  Chevalier,  "is  it  possible, 
that,  so  long  as  we  have  been  acquainted,  you  should 
have  learned  no  more  invention  ?  The  Coiuit  de  Cani- 
eran plays  at  quiiize,  and  so  do  I  ;  we  want  money  ;  he 
has  more  than  he  knows  what  to  do  with  ;  I  will  be- 
speak a  splendid  supper,  he  shall  pay  for  it.  Send  your 
maitre-d' hotel  to  me,  and  trouble  yourself  no  further, 
except  in  some  precautions,  which  it  is  necessary  to  take 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


53 


on  such  an  occasion."  "  What  are  they?  "  said  Matta. 
"I  will  tell  you,"  said  the  Chevalier  ;  "  for  I  find  one 
must  explain  to  you  things  that  are  as  clear  as  noon- 
day." 

"  You  command  the  guards  that  are  here,  don't  you? 
As  soon  as  night  comes  on,  yon  shall  order  fifteen  or 
twenty  men,  imder  the  command  of  your  sergeant  La 
Place,  to  be  imder  arms,  and  to  lay  themselves  flat  on 
the  groinid,  between  this  place  and  the  head-quarters." 
"What  the  devil!"  cried  Matta,  "an  ambuscade? 
God  forgive  me,  I  believe  you  intend  to  rob  the  poor 
Savoyard.  If  that  be  your  intention,  I  declare  I  will 
have  nothing  to  say  to  it."  "Poor  devil  !"  said  the 
Chevalier,  "the  matter  is  this  ;  it  is  very  likely  that  we 
shall  win  his  money.  The  Piedmontese,  though  other- 
wise good  fellows,  are  apt  to  be  suspicious  and  distrust- 
ful. He  commands  the  horse  ;  you  know  )-ou  cannot 
hold  your  tongue,  and  are  very  likely  to  let  slip  some 
jest  or  other  that  may  vex  him.  Should  he  take  it  into 
his  head  that  he  is  cheated,  and  resent  it,  who  knows 
what  the  consequences  might  be?  for  he  is  commonly 
attended  by  eight  or  ten  horsemen.  Therefore,  however 
he  may  be  provoked  at  his  loss,  it  is  proper  to  be  in  such 
a  situation  as  not  to  dread  his  resentment." 

"Embrace  me,  my  dear  Chevalier,"  said  Matta, 
holding  his  sides  and  laughing;  "embrace  me,  for 
thou  art  not  to  be  matched.  What  a  fool  I  was  to  think, 
when  you  talked  to  me  of  taking  precautions,  that 
nothing  more  was  necessary  than  to  prepare  a  table  and 
cards,  or  perhaps  to  provide  some  false  dice  !  I  should 
never  have  thought  of  supporting  a  man  who  plays  at 
quinze  by  a  detachment  of  foot  :  I  must,  indeed,  confess 
that  yon  are  already  a  great  soldier." 

The  next  day  everything  happened  as  the  Chevalier 
Grammont  had  planned  it  ;  the  unfortunate  Cameran 
fell  into  the  snare.  They  slipped  in  the  most  agreeable 
manner  possible  :  Matta  drank  five  or  six  bumpers  to 


54 


MEMOIRS  OF  COrNT  GRAMMONT. 


drown  a  few  scruples  which  made  him  somewhat  un- 
easy. The  Chevalier  de  Gramniont  shone  as  usual,  and 
almost  made  his  guest  die  with  laughing,  whom  he  was 
soon  aftei  to  make  very  serious  ;  and  the  good-natured 
Cameran  ate  like  a  man  whose  affections  were  divided 
between  good  cheer  and  a  love  of  play  ;  that  is  to  say, 
he  hurried  down  his  victuals,  tliat  he  might  not  lose  any 
of  the  precious  time  which  he  had  devoted  to  quinze. 

Supper  being  done,  the  sergeant  La  Place  posted  his 
ambuscade,  and  the  Chevalier  de  Gramniont  engaged 
his  man.  The  perfidy  of  Cerise,  and  the  high-crowned 
hat,  were  still  fresh  in  remembrance,  and  enabled  him 
to  get  the  better  of  a  few  grains  of  remorse,  and  conquer 
some  scruples  which  arose  in  his  mind.  Matta,  unwill- 
ing to  be  a  spectator  of  violated  hospitality,  sat  down 
in  an  easy  chair,  in  order  to  fall  asleep,  while  the  Chev- 
alier was  stripping  the  poor  Count  of  his  money. 

They  only  staked  three  or  four  pistoles  at  first,  jiist 
for  amusement  ;  but  Cameran  having  lost  three  or  four 
times,  he  staked  high,  and  the  game  became  serious. 
He  still  lost,  and  became  outrageous  ;  the  cards  flew 
about  the  room,  and  the  exclamations  awoke  ]Matta. 

As  his  head  was  heavy  with  sleep,  and  hot  with  wine, 
he  began  to  laugh  at  the  passion  of  the  Piedmontese, 
instead  of  consoling  him.  "  Faith,  my  poor  Count," 
.said  he,  "  if  I  were  iu  your  place,  I  would  play  no 
more."  "  Why  so ?"  said  the  other.  "  I  don't  know," 
said  he,  "  but  my  heart  tells  me  that  your  ill-luck  will 
continue."  "I  will  try  that,"  said  Cameran,  calling 
for  fresh  cards.  "Do  so,"  said  Matta,  and  fell  asleep 
again.  It  was  but  for  a  short  time.  All  cards  were 
equally  unfortunate  for  the  loser.  He  held  none  but 
tens  or  court-cards  ;  and  if  by  chance  he  had  quinze,  he 
was  sure  to  be  the  younger  hand,  and  therefore  lost  it. 
Again  he  stormed.  "Did  not  I  tell  you  so?"  said 
Matta,  starting  out  of  his  sleep.  "All  your  storming  is 
iu  vain  ;  as  long  as  you  play  }  ou  w-ill  lose.  Believe 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


55 


me,  the  shortest  follies  are  the  best.  Leave  off,  for  the 
devil  take  me  if  it  is  possible  for  you  to  win." 
"Why?"  said  Caineran,  who  began  to  be  impatient. 
"Do  you  wish  to  know  ?  "  said  Matta  ;  "  why,  faith,  it 
is  because  we  are  cheating  you." 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  was  provoked  at  so  ill- 
timed  a  jest,  more  especially  as  it  carried  along  with  it 
some  appearance  of  truth.  "  Mr.  Matta,"  said  he,  "do 
you  think  it  can  be  very  agreeable  for  a  man  who  pla^-s 
with  siich  ill-luck  as  the  Count  to  be  pestered  with  your 
insipid  jests?  For  my  part,  I  am  so  weary  of  the  game 
that  I  woiild  desist  immediately,  if  he  was  not  so  great 
a  loser."  Nothing  is  more  dreaded  by  a  losing  game- 
ster than  such  a  threat  ;  and  the  Count,  in  a  softened 
tone,  told  the  Chevalier  that  Mr.  Matta  might  say  what 
he  pleased,  if  he  did  not  offend  him  ;  that,  as  to  him- 
self, it  did  not  give  him  the  smallest  uneasiness. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  gave  the  Count  far  bet- 
ter treatment  than  he  himself  had  experienced  from  the 
Swiss  at  Lyons  ;  for  he  played  upon  credit  as  long  as  he 
pleased,  which  Cameran  took  so  kindly,  that  he  lost  fif- 
teen hundred  pistoles,  and  paid  them  the  next  morning. 
As  for  Matta,  he  was  severely  reprimanded  for  the  in- 
temperance of  his  tongue.  All  the  reason  he  gave  for 
his  conduct  was,  that  he  made  it  a  point  of  conscience 
not  to  suffer  the  poor  Savoyard  to  be  cheated  without 
informing  him  of  it.  "  Besides,"  said  he,  "  it  would 
have  given  me  pleasure  to  have  seen  my  infantry  en- 
gaged with  his  horse,  if  he  had  been  inclined  to  mis- 
chief." 

This  adventure  having  recruited  their  finances,  for- 
tune favored  them  the  remainder  of  the  campaign,  and 
the  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  to  prove  that  he  had  only 
seized  upon  the  Count's  effects  by  way  of  reprisal,  and 
to  indemnify  himself  for  the  losses  he  had  sustained  at 
Lyons,  began  from  this  time  to  make  the  same  use  of 
his  money,  that  he  has  been  known  to  do  since  upon  all 


56 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


occasions.  He  found  out  tlie  distressed  in  order  to  re- 
lieve them  ;  officers  who  had  lost  their  equipa'^e  in  the 
war,  or  their  money  at  play  ;  soldiers  who  were  disabled 
in  the  trenches  ;  in  short  every  one  felt  the  influence  of 
his  benevolence  :  but  his  manner  of  conferring  a  favor 
exceeded  even  the  favor  itself 

Every  man  possessed  of  such  amiable  qualities  must 
meet  with  success  in  all  his  undertakings.  The  soldiers 
knew  his  person  and  adored  him.  The  generals  were 
sure  to  meet  him  in  every  scene  of  action,  and  sought 
his  company  at  other  times.  As  soon  as  fortune  declared 
for  him,  his  first  care  was  to  make  restitution,  by  desir- 
ing Cameran  to  go  his  halves  in  all  parties  where  the 
odds  were  in  his  favor. 

An  inexhaustible  fund  of  vivacity  and  good  humor 
gave  a  certain  air  of  novelty  to  whatever  he  either  said 
or  did.  I  know  not  on  what  occasion  it  was  that  Mon- 
sieur de  Turenue,  towards  the  end  of  the  siege,  com- 
manded a  separate  body.  The  Chevalier  de  Grammont 
went  to  visit  him  in  his  new  quarters,  where  he  found 
fifteen  or  twenty  officers.  M.  de  Turenue  was  naturally 
fond  of  merriment,  and  the  Chevalier's  presence  was 
sure  to  inspire  it.  He  was  much  pleased  with  this  visit, 
and  by  wa}-  of  acknowledgment,  would  have  engaged 
him  to  play.  The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  in  returning 
him  thanks,  said,  that  he  had  learned  from  his  tutor, 
that  when  a  man  went  to  see  his  friends,  it  was  neither 
prudent  to  leave  his  own  money  behind  him,  nor  civil 
to  carry  off  theirs.  "Truly,"  said  Monsictir  de  Turenne, 
"you  will  find  neither  deep  play  nor  nu:ch  money 
among  us  ;  but,  that  it  may  not  be  said  that  we  suffered 
you  to  depart  without  playing,  let  us  stake  every  one  a 
horse. ' ' 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  agreed.  Fortune,  who 
had  followed  him  to  a  place  where  he  did  not  think  he 
should  have  any  need  of  her,  made  him  win  fifteen  or 
sixteen  horses,  by  way  of  joke  ;  but  seeing  some  counte- 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT.  57 

nances  disconcerted  at  the  loss,  "Gentlemen,"  said  he, 
"  I  shonld  be  sorry  to  see  )-on  return  on  foot  from  your 
general's  quarters  ;  it  will  be  enough  for  me  if  yon  send 
me  your  horses  to-morrow,  except  one,  wliich  I  give  for 
the  cards." 

The  valet-de-chambre  thought  he  was  bantering.  "  I 
speak  seriously,"  said  the  Chevalier,  "  I  give  yon  a  horse 
for  the  cards  ;  and,  what  is  more,  take  whichever  you 
please,  except  my  own."  "Truly,"  said  Monsieur  de 
Turenne,  "  I  am  vastly  pleased  with  the  novelty  of  the 
thing  ;  for  I  don't  believe  that  a  horse  was  ever  before 
given  for  the  cards. ' ' 

Trino  surrendered  at  last.  The  Baron  de  Batteville,* 
who  had  defended  it  valiantly,  and  for  a  long  time,  ob- 
tained a  capitulation  worthy  of  such  a  resistance.    I  do 


*  This  officer  appears  to  have  been  the  same  person  who  was  after- 
wards ambassador  from  Spain  to  the  court  of  Great  Britain,  where,  in 
the  summer  of  1660,  he  offended  the  French  court,  by  claiming  prece- 
dence of  their  ambassador.  Count  d'Estrades,  on  the  public  entry  of  the 
Swedish  ambassador  into  London.  On  this  occasion  the  court  of  France 
compelled  its  rival  of  Spain  to  submit  to  the  mortifying  circumstance  of 
acknowledging  the  French  superiority.  To  commemorate  this  important 
victory,  Louis  XIV.  caused  a  medal  to  be  struck,  representing  the  Span- 
ish ambassador,  the  Marquis  de  Fuente,  making  the  declaration  to  that 
king,  "No  concurrer  con  los  ambassadores  des  de  Francia, "  with  this 
inscription,  "Jus  prtecedendi  assertum,"  and  under  it,  "Hispaniorum 
excusatio  coram  xxx  legatis  principum,  1662."  A  very  curious  account 
of  the  fray  occasioned  by  this  dispute,  drawn  up  by  Evelyn,  is  to  be  seen 
in  that  gentleman's  article  in  the  Riographia  Britannica.  Lord  Clar- 
endon, speaking  of  Baron  de  Batte\-ille,  saj's,  he  was  born  in  Burgundy, 
in  the  .Spanish  quarters,  and  bred  a  soldier,  in  which  profession  he  was 
an  officer  of  note,  and  at  that  time  was  governor  of  St.  Sebastian,  and 
of  that  province.  He  seemed  a  rough  man,  and  to  have  more  of  the 
camp,  but,  in  truth,  knew  the  intrigues  of  a  court  better  than  most 
Spaniards ;  and,  except  when  his  passion  surprised  him,  was  wary  and 
cunning  in  his  negotiation.  He  lived  with  less  reservation  and  more 
jollity  than  the  ministers  of  that  crown  used  to  do,  and  drew  such  of 
the  court  to  his  table  and  conversation  as  he  observed  to  be  loud  talk- 
ers, and  confident  enough  in  the  king's  presence. — Continuation  of 
Ctarcndou,  p.  84. 


58 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


not  know  whether  the  Chevalier  de  Oranmiont  had  any 
share  in  the  capture  of  this  place  ;  but  I  know  very  well, 
that  during  a  more  glorious  reign,  and  with  armies  ever 
victorious,  his  intrepidity  and  address  have  been  the 
cause  of  taking  others  since,  even  under  the  eye  of 
his  master,  as  we  shall  see  in  the  sequel  of  these 
memoirs. 


PRIXCK  UK  eoNDi;. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


^Military  glory  is  at  most  but  one-half  of  the  accom- 
plishments which  distinguish  heroes.  Love  must  give 
the  finishing  stroke,  and  adorn  their  character  by  the 
difficulties  they  encounter,  the  temerity  of  their  enter- 
prises, and  finally,  by  the  lustre  of  success.  We  have 
examples  of  this,  not  only  in  romances,  but  also  in  the 
genuine  histories  of  the  most  famous  warriors,  and  the 
most  celebrated  conquerors. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  and  Matta,  who  did  not 
think  much  of  these  examples,  were,  however,  of  opin- 
ion, that  it  would  be  very  agreeable  to  refresh  themselves 
after  the  fatigues  of  the  siege  of  Trino,  by  forming  some 
other  sieges,  at  the  expense  of  the  beauties  and  husbands 
of  Turin.  As  the  campaign  had  finished  early,  they 
thought  they  should  have  time  to  perform  some  exploits 
before  the  bad  weather  obliged  them  to  repass  the 
mountains. 

They  sallied  forth,  therefore,  not  unlike  Amadis  de 
Gaul  or  Don  Galaor  after  they  had  been  dubbed  knights, 
eager  in  their  search  after  adventures  in  love,  war,  and 
enchantments.  They  were  greatly  superior  to  those  two 
brothers,  who  only  knew  how  to  cleave  in  twain  giants, 

(59) 


60 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


to  break  lances,  and  to  carry  off  fair  damsels  behind 
tlicni  on  horseback,  without  saying  a  single  word  to 
them  ;  whereas  our  heroes  were  adepts  at  cards  and  dice, 
of  which  the  others  were  totally  ignorant. 

They  went  to  Turin,  met  with  an  agreeable  reception, 
and  were  greatly  distinguished  at  court.  Could  il  be 
otherwise?  They  were  )oung  and  handsome  ;  they  had 
wit  at  command,  and  spent  their  money  liberally.  In 
what  country  will  not  a  man  succeed,  possessing  such 
advantages  ?  As  Turin  was  at  that  time  the  seat  of  gal- 
lantry and  of  love,  two  strangers  of  this  description,  who 
were  always  cheerful,  brisk,  and  lively,  could  not  fail 
to  please  the  ladies  of  the  court. 

Though  the  men  of  Turin  were  extremely  handsome, 
they  were  not,  however,  possessed  of  the  art  of  pleasing. 
They  treated  their  wives  with  respect,  and  were  cour- 
teous to  strangers.  Their  wives,  still  more  handsome, 
were  full  as  courteous  to  strangers,  and  less  respectful  to 
their  husbands. 

Madame  Royale,*  a  worthy  daughter  of  Henry  IV., 
rendered  her  little  court  the  most  agreeable  in  the 
world.  She  inherited  such  of  her  father's  virtues  as 
compose  the  proper  ornament  of  her  sex  ;  and  with 
regard  to  what  are  termed  the  foibles  of  great  souls, 
her  highness  had  in  no  wise  degenerated. 

The  Count  de  Tanes  was  her  prime  minister.  It  was 
not  difficiilt  to  conduct  affairs  of  state  during  his  admin- 


*  Christina,  second  daughter  of  Henry  IV. ,  married  to  Victor  Ama- 
deus,  Prince  of  Piedmont,  aftenvards  Duke  of  Savoy.  She  seems  to 
have  been  well  entitled  to  the  character  here  given  of  her.  Keysler, 
in  his  Travels,  vol.  i.,  p.  239,  speaking  of  a  fine  ^^lla,  called  La  Vigne 
de  Madame  Royale,  near  Turin,  says,  "During  the  minority  under  the 
regent  Christina,  both  the  house  and  garden  were  often  the  scenes  of 
riot  and  debauchery.  On  this  account,  in  the  king's  advanced  age, 
when  he  was,  as  it  were,  inflamed  with  an  external  flame  of  religion, 
with  which  possibly  the  admonitions  of  his  father-confessor  might  con- 
cur, this  place  became  so  odious  to  him,  that,  upon  the  death  of 
Madame  Royale,  he  bestowed  it  on  the  hospital."    She  died  in  1663. 


I 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


61 


istration.  No  complaints  were  alleged  against  him  ; 
and  the  princess,  satisfied  with  his  conduct  herself,  was, 
above  all,  glad  to  have  her  choice  approved  by  her  whole 
court,  where  people  lived  nearly  according  to  the  man- 
ners and  customs  of  ancient  chivalry. 

The  ladies  had  each  a  professed  lover,  for  fashion's 
sake,  besides  volunteers,  whose  numbers  were  unlimited. 
The  declared  admirers  wore  their  mistresses'  liveries, 
their  arms,  and  sometimes  even  took  their  names. .  Their 
office  was,  never  to  quit  them  in  public,  and  never  to 
approach  them  in  private  ;  to  be  their  squires  upon  all 
occasions,  and,  in  jousts  and  tournaments,  to  adorn  their 
lances,  their  housings,  and  their  coats,  with  the  ciphers 
and  the  colors  of  their  dulcineas. 

Alatta  was  far  from  being  averse  to  gallantry  ;  btxt 
would  have  liked  it  more  simple  than  as  it  was  practised 
at  Turin.  The  ordinary  forms  would  not  have  disgusted 
him  ;  but  he  found  here  a  sort  of  superstition  in  the 
ceremonies  and  worship  of  love,  which  he  thought  very 
inconsistent  :  however,  as  he  had  submitted  his  conduct 
in  that  matter  to  the  direction  of  the  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
mont,  he  was  obliged  to  follow  his  example,  and  to  con- 
form to  the  customs  of  the  country. 

They  enlisted  themselves  at  the  same  time  in  the  ser- 
vice of  two  beauties,  whose  former  squires  gave  them  up 
immediately  from  motives  of  politeness.  The  Chevalier 
de  Grammont  chose  Mademoiselle  de  Saint-Germain,  and 
told  Matta  to  offer  his  services  to  Madame  de  Senantes. 
Matta  consented,  though  he  liked  the  other  better  ;  but 
the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  persuaded  him  that  Madame 
de  Senantes  was  more  suitable  for  him.  As  he  had 
reaped  advantage  from  the  Chevalier's  talents  in  the  first 
projects  they  had  formed,  he  resolved  to  follow  his  in- 
structions in  love,  as  he  had  done  his  advice  in  play. 

Mademoiselle  de  Saint-Germain  was  in  the  bloom  of 
youth  ;  her  eyes  were  small,  but  very  bright  and  spark- 
ling, and,  like  her  hair,  were  black  ;  her  complexion  was 


62 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


lively  and  clear,  though  not  fair  :  she  h:;d  an  agreeable 
mouth,  two  fine  rows  of  teeth,  a  neck  as  handsome  as 
one  could  wish,  and  a  most  delightful  shape  ;  she  had  a 
particular  elegance  in  her  elbows,  which,  however,  she 
did  not  show  to  advantage  ;  her  hands  were  rather  large 
and  not  very  white  ;  her  feet,  thoiigh  not  of  the  smallest, 
were  well  shaped  ;  she  trusted  to  Providence,  and  used 
no  art  to  set  off  those  graces  which  she  had  received  from 
nature  ;  but,  notwithstanding  her  negligence  in  the  em- 
bellishment of  her  charms,  there  was  something  so  lively 
in  her  person,  that  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  was 
caught  at  first  sight  ;  her  wit  and  humor  corresponded 
with  her  other  qualities,  being  quite  easy  and  perfectly 
charming  ;  she  was  all  mirth,  all  life,  all  complaisance 
and  politeness,  and  all  was  natural,  and  always  the  same 
without  any  variation. 

The  Marchioness  de  Senantes  *  was  esteemed  fair,  and 
she  might  have  enjoyed,  if  she  had  pleased,  the  reputa- 
tion of  having  red  hair,  had  she  not  rather  chosen  to 
conform  to  the  taste  of  the  age  in  which  she  lived  than 
to  follow  that  of  the  ancients  :  she  had  all  the  advan- 
tages of  red  hair  without  any  of  the  inconveniences  ;  a 
constant  attention  to  her  person  served  as  a  corrective  to 
the  natural  defects  of  her  complexion.  After  all,  what 
does  it  signify,  whether  cleanliness  be  owing  to  nature 
or  to  art?  it  argues  an  invidious  temper  to  be  very  in- 
quisitive about  it.  She  had  a  great  deal  of  wit,  a  good 
memory,  more  reading,  and  a  still  greater  inclination 
towards  tenderness. 

She  had  a  husband  whom  it  would  have  been  criminal 
even  in  chastity  to  spare.  He  piqiied  himself  upon  being 
a  Stoic,  and  gloried  in  being  slovenly  and  disgusting  in 
honor  of  his  profession.  In  this  he  succeeded  to  admira- 
tion ;  for  he  was  very  fat,  so  that  he  perspired  almost  as 


*  Lord  Orford  saj's,  the  family  of  Senantes  still  remains  in  Piedmont, 
and  bears  the  title  of  Marquis  de  Carailles. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


63 


iiiiich  in  winter  as  in  snnnner.  Erudition  and  brutality 
seemed  to  be  the  most  conspicuous  features  of  his  char- 
acter, and  were  displayed  in  his  conversation,  sometimes 
together,  sometimes  alternately,  but  always  disagreeably  ; 
he  was  not  jealous,  and  yet  he  was  troublesome  ;  he  was 
very  well  pleased  to  see  attentions  paid  to  his  wife,  pro- 
vided more  were  paid  to  him. 

"As  soon  as  our  adventurers  had  declared  themselves, 
the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  arrayed  himself  in  green 
habiliments,  and  dressed  Matta  in  blue,  these  being  the 
favorite  colors  of  their  new  mistresses.  They  entered 
immediately  upon  duty  :  the  Chevalier  learned  and 
practised  all  the  ceremonies  of  this  species  of  gallantry, 
as  if  he  always  had  been  accustomed  to  them  ;  but  Matta 
commonly  forgot  one-half,  and  was  not  over  perfect  in 
practising  the  other.  He  never  could  remember  that 
his  office  was  to  promote  the  glory,  and  not  the  interest, 
of  his  mistress. 

The  Duchess  of  Savo)'  gave  the  very  next  day  an  en- 
tertainment at  La  Venerie,*  where  all  the  ladies  were 
invited.  The  Chevalier  was  so  agreeable  and  diverting, 
that  he  made  his  mistress  almost  die  with  laughing. 
Matta,  in  leading  his  lady  to  the  coach,  squeezed  her 
hand,  and  at  their  return  from  the  promenade  he  begged 

*This  place  is  thus  described  by  Keysler,  Travels,  vol.  i.,  p.  235 — 
"The  palace  most  frequented  by  the  royal  family  is  La  Venerie,  the 
court  fjenerallj'  continuing  there  from  the  spring  to  December.  It  is 
about  a  leagiie  from  Turin  :  the  road  that  leads  to  it  is  well  paved,  and 
the  greatest  part  of  it  planted  with  trees  on  each  side  :  it  is  not  always 
in  a  direct  line,  but  runs  a  little  winding  between  fine  meadows,  fields, 
and  vineyards."  After  describing  the  palace  as  it  then  was,  he  adds — 
"The  palace  garden  at  present  consists  only  of  hedges  and  walks, 
whereas  formerly  it  had  fine  water-works  and  grottos,  besides  the 
fountain  of  Hercules  and  the  temple  of  Diana,  of  which  a  description 
may  be  seen  in  the  Nouveau  Theatre  de  Piedmont.  But  now  nothing 
of  these  remains,  being  gone  to  ruin,  partly  by  the  ravages  of  the 
French,  and  partly  by  the  king's  order  that  they  .should  be  demolished, 
to  make  room  for  something  else  ;  but  those  vacuities  have  not  yet, 
and  probably  will  not  very  soon  be  filled  up." 


64  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


of  her  to  pity  his  sufferings.  This  was  proceeding  rather 
too  precipitately,  and  although  Madame  de  Senantes 
was  not  destitute  of  the  natural  compassion  of  her  sex, 
she  nevertheless  was  shocked  at  the  familiarity  of  this 
treatment  ;  she  thought  herself  obliged  to  show  some 
degree  of  resentment,  and  pulling  away  her  hand,  which 
he  had  pressed  with  still  greater  fervency  upon  this 
declaration,  she  went  up  to  the  royal  apartments  without 
even  looking  at  her  new  lover.  Matta,  never  thinking 
that  he  had  offended  her,  suffered  her  to  go,  and  went 
in  search  of  some  company  to  sup  with  hiui  :  nothing 
was  more  easy  for  a  man  of  his  disposition  ;  he  soon  found 
what  he  wanted,  sat  a  long  time  at  table  to  refresh  him- 
self after  the  fatigues  of  love,  and  went  to  bed  com- 
pletely satisfied  that  he  had  performed  his  part  to  perfec- 
tion. 

During  all  this  time  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont 
acquitted  himself  towards  Mademoiselle  de  Saint  Ger- 
main with  universal  applause  ;  and  withoiit  remitting 
his  assiduities,  he  found  means  to  shine,  as  they  went 
along,  in  the  relation  of  a  thousand  entertaining  anec- 
dotes, which  he  introduced  in  the  general  conversation. 
Her  Royal  Highness  heard  them  with  pleasure,  and  the 
solitary  Senantes  likewise  attended  to  them.  He  per- 
ceived this,  and  quitted  his  mistress  to  inquire  what  she 
had  done  with  Matta. 

"  I ! "  said  she,  "  I  have  done  nothing  with  him  ;  but 
I  don't  know  what  he  would  have  done  with  me  if  I  had 
been  obliging  enough  to  listen  to  his  most  humble 
solicitations." 

She  then  told  him  in  what  manner  his  friend  had 
treated  her  the  very  second  day  of  their  acquaintance. 

The  Chevalier  could  not  forbear  laughing  at  it  ;  he 
told  her  that  Matta  was  rather  too  unceremonious,  but 
yet  she  would  like  him  better  as  their  intimacy  more 
improved,  and  for  her  consolation  he  assured  her  that 
he  would  have  spoken  in  the  same  manner  to  her  Royal 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  CIRAM.MONT. 


65 


Hij^hncss  herself ;  however,  he  would  not  fail  to  give 
him  a  severe  reprimand.  He  went  the  next  morning 
into  his  room  for  that  purpose  ;  but  Matta  had  gone  out 
early  in  the  morning  on  a  shooting  party,  in  which  he 
had  been  engaged  by  his  supper  companions  in  the  pre- 
ceding evening.  At  his  return  he  took  a  brace  of  par- 
tridges and  went  to  his  mistress.  Being  asked  whether 
he  wished  to  see  the  Marquis,  he  said  no  ;  and  the  Swiss 
telling  him  his  lady  was  not  at  home,  he  left  his  par- 
tridges, and  desired  him  to  present  them  to  his  mistress 
from  him. 

The  Marchioness  was  at  her  toilet,  and  was  decorating 
her  head  with  all  the  grace  she  could  devise  to  captivate 
Matta,  at  the  moment  he  was  denied  admittance  ;  she 
knew  nothing  of  the  matter  ;  but  her  hi:sband  knew 
every  particular.  He  had  taken  it  in  dudgeon  that 
the  first  visit  was  not  paid  to  him,  and,  as  he  was 
resolved  that  it  should  not  be  paid  to  his  wife,  the 
Swiss  had  received  his  orders,  and  had  almost  been 
beaten  for  receiving  the  present  which  had  been  left. 
The  partridges,  however,  were  immediately  sent  back, 
and  Matta,  without  examining  into  the  cause,  was  glad 
to  have  them  again.  He  went  to  court  without  ever 
changing  his  clothes,  or  in  the  least  considering  he 
ought  not  to  appear  there  without  his  lady's  colors.  He 
found  her  becomingly  dressed  ;  her  eyes  appeared  to  him 
more  than  iisually  sparkling,  and  her  whole  person 
altogether  divine.  He  began  from  that  day  to  be  much 
pleased  with  himself  for  his  complaisance  to  the  Cheva- 
lier de  Grammont ;  however,  he  could  not  help  remark- 
ing that  she  looked  but  coldly  iipon  him.  This 
appeared  to  him  a  very  extraordinary  return  for  his 
services,  and,  imagining  that  she  was  unmindful  of  her 
weighty  obligations  to  him,  he  entered  into  conversation 
with  her,  and  severely  reprimanded  her  for  having  sent 
back  his  partridges  with  so  much  indifference. 

She  did  not  understand  what  he  meant  ;  and  highly 


66 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


offended  that  he  did  not  ap<)h)gize,  after  the  reprimand 
wliich  she  conchuled  hiui  to  have  received,  told  him 
that  he  certainly  had  met  with  ladies  of  very  complying 
dispositions  in  his  travels,  as  he  seemed  to  give  to  himself 
airs  that  she  was  by  no  means  accnstomed  to  endure. 
Matta  desired  to  know  wherein  he  conld  be  said  to  have 
given  himself  any.  "  Wherein  ?  "  said  .she  :  "  the  sec- 
ond day  that  yon  honored  me  with  your  attentions,  you 
treated  me  as  if  I  had  been  your  humble  .servant  for  a 
thousand  years  ;  the  first  time  that  I  gave  you  my  hand 
you  squeezed  it  as  violently  as  yoix  were  able.  After 
this  commencement  of  your  coiirtship,  I  got  into  my 
coach,  and  you  mounted  your  horse  ;  but  instead  of  rid- 
ing by  the  side  of  the  coach,  as  any  reasonable  gallant 
would  have  done,  no  sooner  did  a  hare  start  from  her 
form,  than  you  immediately  galloped  full  speed  after 
her ;  having  regaled  yourself,  during  the  promenade,  by 
taking  snuff,  without  ever  deigning  to  bestow  a  thought 
on  me,  the  only  proof  you  gave  me,  on  j-our  return,  that 
you  recollected  me,  was  by  soliciting  me  to  surrender 
my  reputation  in  terms  polite  enoiigh,  but  very  explicit. 
And  now  you  talk  to  me  of  having  been  shooting  of  par- 
tridges and  of  some  visit  or  other,  which,  I  suppose,  you 
have  been  dreaming  of,  as  well  as  of  all  the  rest." 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  now  advanced,  to  the 
interruption  of  this  whimsical  dialogue.  Matta  was  re- 
buked for  his  forwardness,  and  his  friend  took  abundant 
pains  to  convince  him  that  his  conduct  bordered  more 
upon  insolence  than  familiarity.  IMatta  endeavored  to 
exculpate  himself,  but  succeeded  ill.  His  mistress  took 
compassion  upon  him,  and  consented  to  admit  his  excuses 
for  the  manner,  rather  than  his  repentance  for  the  fact, 
and  declared  it  was  the  intention  alone  which  could 
either  justify  or  condemn,  in  such  ca.ses  ;  that  it  was 
very  easy  to  pardon  those  transgressions  which  arise 
from  excess  of  tenderness,  but  not  such  as  proceeded 
from   too  great  a   presumption   of  success.  Matta 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAJIMONT 


67 


swore  that  lie  only  squeezed  her  hand  from  the  vio- 
lence of  his  passion,  and  that  he  had  been  driven, 
by  necessity,  to  ask  her  to  relieve  it;  that  he  was  yet  a 
novice  in  the  arts  of  solicitation  ;  that  he  could  not  pos- 
sibly think  her  more  worth)-  of  his  affection,  after  a 
month's  service,  than  at  the  jDresent  moment ;  and  that 
he  entreated  her  to  cast  away  an  occasional  thought  upon 
him  when  her  leisure  admitted.  The  Marchioness  was 
not  offended;  she  saw  very  well  that  she  must  require  an 
implicit  conformity  to  the  established  rule  of  decorum, 
when  she  had  to  deal  with  such  a  character  ;  and  the 
Chevalier  de  Grammont,  after  this  sort  of  reconciliation, 
went  to  look  after  his  own  affair  with  IMadenioiselle  de 
St.  Germain. 

His  concern  was  not  the  offspring  of  mere  good  nature, 
nay,  it  was  the  reverse  ;  for  no  sooner  did  he  perceive  that 
the  Marchioness  looked  with  an  eye  of  favor  iipon  him, 
than  this  conquest,  appearing  to  him  to  be  more  easy 
than  the  other,  he  thought  it  was  prudent  to  take  advan- 
tage of  it,  for  fear  of  losing  the  opportunity,  and  that  he 
might  not  have  spent  all  his  time  to  no  purpose,  in 
case  he  should  prove  iin.successful  with  the  little  St. 
Germain. 

In  the  mean  time,  in  order  to  maintain  that  authority 
which  he  had  usurped  over  the  conduct  of  his  friend,  he, 
that  very  evening,  notwithstanding  what  had  been 
already  said,  reprimanded  him  for  presuming  to  appear 
at  court  in  his  moi-ning  suit,  and  without  his  mistress's 
badge  ;  for  not  having  had  the  wit  or  prudence  to  pay 
his  first  visit  to  the  Marquis  de  Senantes,  instead  of  con- 
suming his  time,  to  no  purpose,  in  inquiries  for  the  lady; 
and  to  conclude,  he  asked  him  what  the  devil  he  meant 
by  presenting  her  with  a  brace  of  miserable  red  par- 
tridges. "And  why  not?"  said  Matta:  "ought  they  to 
have  been  blue,  too,  to  match  the  cockade  and  sword- 
knots  vou  made  me  wear  the  other  dav  ?  Plag^ue  not  mc 
with  your  nonsensical  whimsies  :  my  life  on  it,  in  one 


V 


68 


MK.MOIRS  OF  COUNT  CKAMMONT. 


fortiiij;ht  your  equal  in  foppery  and  folly  will  not  be 
found  tlironj^hont  the  confines  of  Turin  ;  but  to  reply  to 
\  our  questions,  I  did  not  call  upon  Monsieur  de  Senantes, 
because  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  him,  and  because  he  is 
of  a  species  of  animals  which  I  dislike,  and  always  shall 
dislike:  as  for  you,  you  appear  quite  charmed  with  being 
decked  out  in  green  ribands,  with  writing  letters  to  your 
mistress,  and  filling  your  pockets  with  citrons,  pistachios, 
and  such  sort  of  stuff,  with  which  you  are  always  cram- 
ming the  poor  girl's  mouth,  in  spite  of  her  teeth  :  you 
hope  to  succeed  by  chanting  ditties  composed  in  the  days 
of  Corisande  and  of  Henry  IV.,  which  you  will  swear 
yourself  have  made  upon  her  :  happy  in  practising  the 
ceremonials  of  gallantry,  you  have  no  ambition  for  the 
essentials.  Very  well  :  every  one  has  a  particular  way 
of  acting,  as  well  as  a  particular  taste  :  yours  is  to  trifle 
in  love  ;  and,  provided  you  can  make  Mademoiselle  de 
St.  Germain  laugh,  yoti  are  satisfied  :  as  for  my  part,  I 
am  persuaded,  that  women  here  are  made  of  the  same 
materials  as  in  other  places  ;  and  I  do  not  think  that  they 
can  be  mightily  offended,  if  one  sometimes  leaves  off  tri- 
fling, to  come  to  the  point  :  however,  if  the  Marchioness 
is  not  of  tliis  way  of  thinking,  she  may  e'en  provide  her- 
self elsewhere,  for  I  can  assure  her,  that  I  shall  not  long 
act  the  part  of  her  squire." 

This  was  an  unnecessary  menace  ;  for  the  Marchioness 
in  reality  liked  him  very  well,  was  nearly  of  the  same 
way  of  thinking  herself,  and  wished  for  nothing  more 
than  to  put  his  gallantry  to  the  test.  But  Matta  pro- 
ceeded upon  a  wrong  plan  ;  he  had  conceived  such  an 
aversion  for  her  husband,  that  he  could  not  prevail  upon 
him.self  to  make  the  smallest  advance  towards  his  good 
graces.  He  was  given  to  understand  that  he  ought  to 
begin  by  endeavoring  to  lull  the  dragon  to  sleep,  before 
he  could  gain  possession  of  the  treasure  ;  but  this  was  all 
to  no  purpose,  though,  at  the  same  time,  he  could  never 
see  his  mistress  but  in  public.    This  made  him  impa- 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


69 


tient,  and  as  he  was  lameiitiii*;^  his  ill-forlune  to  her  one 
day:  "  Have  the  goodness,  niadanie,"  said  he,  "  to  let  me 
know  where  yon  live  :  there  is  never  a  day  that  I  do  not 
call  upon  you,  at  least,  three  or  four  times,  without  ever 
being  blessed  with  a  sight  of  you."  "  I  generally  sleep 
at  home,"  replied  she,  laughing,  "but  I  must  tell  you, 
that  you  will  never  find  me  there,  if  you  do  not  first  pay 
a  visit  to  the  Marquis  :  I  am  not  mistress  of  the  house. 
I  do  not  tell  you,"  continued  she,  "that  he  is  a  man 
whose  acquaintance  any  one  would  very  impatiently 
covet  for  his  conversation  :  on  the  contrary,  I  agree  that 
his  humor  is  fantastical,  and  his  manners  not  of  the 
pleasing  cast  ;  but  there  is  nothing  so  savage  and  inhu- 
man which  a  little  care,  attention,  and  complaisance 
may  not  tame  into  docility.  I  nnist  repeat  to  you  some 
verses  upon  the  subject:  I  have  got  them  by  heart,  because 
they  contain  a  little  advice,  which  yon  may  accommo- 
date, if  you  please,  to  your  own  case." 

RONDEAU. 

Keep  in  mind  these  maxims  rare, 
You  w  ho  hope  to  win  the  fair ; 
Who  are,  or  would  esteemed  be, 
The  quintessence  of  gallantry. 

That  fopp'rj-,  griiniing,  and  grimace. 
And  fertile  store  of  common-place  ; 
That  oaths  as  false  as  dicers  swear, 
And  iv'ry  teeth,  and  scente{l  hair  ; 
That  trinkets,  and  the  pride  of  dress, 
Can  only  give  your  scheme  success. 

Keep  in  mind. 

Hast  thy  charmer  e'er  an  aunt? 
Then  learn  the  rules  of  woman's  cant, 
And  forge  a  tale,  and  swear  you  read  it. 
Such  as,  save  woman,  none  would  credit : 
Win  o'er  her  confidante  and  pages 
By  gold,  for  this  a  goldeu  age  is  ; 


70 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


And  should  it  be  her  wayward  fate, 
To  be  encumbered  with  a  mate, 
A  (hill,  old  dotard  should  he  be, 
That  duliiess  claims  thy  courtesy. 

Keep  ill  luiiul. 

"Truh,"  said  Matta,  "the  soii<»^  may  say  what  it 
pleases,  but  I  cannot  put  it  in  practice  :  your  husband 
is  far  too  exquisite  a  monster  for  me.  Why,  wliat  a 
plaguey  odd  ceremony  do  you  require  of  us  in  this  coiui- 
try,  if  we  cannot  pay  our  compliments  to  the  wife  with- 
out being  in  love  with  the  husband  !  " 

The  Marchioness  was  much  offended  at  this  answer  ; 
and  as  she  thought  she  had  done  enough  in  pointing  out 
to  him  the  path  which  would  conduct  him  to  success,  if 
he  had  deserved  it,  she  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to 
enter  into  any  farther  explanation  ;  since  he  refused  to 
cede,  for  her  sake,  so  trifling  an  objection  :  from  this  in- 
stant she  resolved  to  have  done  with  him. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  had  taken  leave  of  his 
mistress  nearly  at  the  same  time  :  the  ardor  of  his  pur- 
suit was  extinguished.  It  was  not  that  Mademoiselle  de 
Saint  Germain  was  less  worthy  than  hitherto  of  his  atten- 
tions :  on  the  contrary  her  attractions  visibly  increased  : 
she  retired  to  her  pillow  with  a  thousand  charms,  and 
ever  rose  from  it  with  additional  beauty  :  the  phrase  of 
increasing  in  beauty  as  she  increased  in  years  seemed  to 
have  been  purpo.sely  made  for  her.  The  Chevalier  could 
not  deny  these  truths,  but  yet  he  could  not  find  his 
account  in  them  :  a  little  less  merit,  with  a  little  less  di.s- 
cretion,  would  have  been  more  agreeable.  He  perceived 
that  she  attended  to  him  with  pleasure,  that  she  was 
diverted  with  his  stories  as  much  as  he  could  wish,  and 
that  she  received  his  billets  and  presents  without  scruple  ; 
but  then  he  also  discovered  that  .she  did  not  wish  to  pro- 
ceed any  farther.  He  had  exhausted  every  species  of 
address  npon  her,  and  all  to  no  purpose  :  her  attendant 
was  gained  :  her  family,  charmed  with  the  music  of  his 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  ORAMMONT. 


71 


conversation  and  his  great  attention,  were  never  liapj^y 
withont  him  :  in  short,  he  had  reduced  to  practice  the 
advice  contained  in  the  Marchioness's  song,  and  every- 
thing conspired  to  deliver  the  little  Saint  Germain  into 
his  hands,  if  the  little  Saint  Germain  had  herself  been 
willing  :  but  alas  !  she  was  not  inclined.  It  was  in  vain 
he  told  her  the  favor  he  desired  would  cost  her  nothing ; 
and  that  since  these  treasures  were  rarely  comprised  in 
the  fortune  a  lady  brings  with  her  in  marriage,  she  would 
never  find  any  person,  who,  by  unremitting  tenderness, 
unwearied  attachment,  and  inviolable  secrecy,  would 
prove  more  worthy  of  them  than  himself.  He  then  told 
her  no  husband  was  ever  able  to  convey  a  proper  idea  of 
the  sweets  of  love,  and  that  nothing  could  be  more  differ- 
ent than  the  passionate  fondness  of  a  lover,  always  ten- 
der, always  affectionate,  yet  always  respectful,  and  the 
careless  indifference  of  a  husband. 

Mademoiselle  de  Saint  Germain,  not  wishing  to  take 
the  matter  in  a  serious  light,  that  she  might  not  be 
forced  to  resent  it,  answered,  that  since  it  was  generally 
the  custom  in  her  country  to  marry,  she  thought  it  was 
right  to  conform  to  it,  without  entering  into  the  knowl- 
edge of  those  distinctions,  and  those  marvellous  particu- 
lars, which  she  did  not  very  well  understand,  and  of 
which  she  did  not  wish  to  have  any  further  explanation  ; 
that  she  had  submitted  to  listen  to  him  this  one  time, 
but  desired  he  would  never  speak  to  her  again  in  the 
same  strain,  since  such  sort  of  conversation  was  neither 
entertaining  to  her,  nor  could  be  serviceable  to  him. 
Though  no  one  was  ever  more  facetious  than  Madem- 
oiselle de  Saint  Germain,  she  yet  knew  how  to  assume 
a  very  serious  air,  whenever  occasion  required  it.  The 
Chevalier  de  Grammont  soon  saw  that  she  was  in  ear- 
nest ;  and  finding  it  would  cost  him  a  great  deal  of  time 
to  effect  a  change  in  her  sentiments,  he  was  so  far 
cooled  in  this  pursuit,  that  he  only  made  use  of  it  to 
hide  the  designs  he  had  upon  the  Marchioness  de  Se- 
nantes. 


72 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  ORAM. MONT. 


He  found  tliis  lady  much  disgusted  at  Matta's  want  of 
complaisance  ;  and  his  seeming  contempt  for  her  erased 
every  favorable  impression  which  she  had  once  enter- 
tained for  him.  While  she  was  in  this  humor,  the 
Chevalier  told  her  that  her  resentment  was  just  ;  he  ex- 
agreerated  the  loss  which  his  friend  had  sustained  ;  he 
told  her  that  her  charms  were  a  thousand  times  superior 
to  those  of  the  little  Saint  Germain,  and  requested  that 
favor  for  himself  which  his  friend  did  not  deserve.  He 
was  soon  fa\orabl\-  heard  upon  this  topic  ;  and  as  soon 
as  they  were  agreed,  they  consulted  upon  two  measures 
necessary  to  be  taken,  the  one  to  deceive  her  husband, 
the  other  his  friend,  which  was  not  very  difficult :  ]\Iatta 
was  not  at  all  suspicious  :  and  the  stupid  Senantes,  to- 
wards whom  the  Chevalier  had  already  behaved  as  Matta 
had  refused  to  do,  could  not  be  easy  without  him.  This 
was  much  more  than  was  wanted  ;  for  as  soon  as  ever  the 
Chevalier  was  with  the  Maichioness,  her  husband  imme- 
diately joined  them  out  of  politeness  ;  and  on  no  account 
would  have  left  them  alone  together,  for  fear  they  should 
grow  weary  of  each  other  without  him. 

Matta,  who  all  this  time  was  entirely  ignorant  that  he 
was  disgraced,  continued  to  serve  his  mistress  in  his  own 
way.  She  had  agreed  with  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont, 
that  to  all  appearance  everything  should  be  carried  on  as 
before  ;  so  that  the  court  always  believed  that  the  Mar- 
chioness only  thought  of  Matta,  and  that  the  Chevalier 
was  entirely  devoted  to  ^Mademoiselle  de  Saint  Ciermain. 

There  were  very  frequently  little  lotteries  for  trinkets  : 
the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  always  tried  his  fortune,  and 
was  sometimes  fortunate  ;  and  under  pretence  of  the 
prizes  he  had  won,  he  bought  a  thousand  things  which 
he  indiscreetly  gave  to  the  Marchioness,  and  which  she 
still  more  indiscreetly  accepted  :  the  little  Saint  Germain 
very  seldom  received  anything.  There  are  meddling 
whisperers  everywhere  :  remarks  were  made  upon  these 
proceedings  ;  and  the  same  person  that  made  them  com- 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


73 


niiinicated  them  likewise  to  Mademoiselle  de  Saint  Ger- 
main. She  pretended  to  langh,  but  in  reality  was  piqued. 
It  is  a  maxim  religiously  observed  by  the  fair  sex,  to 
envy  each  other  those  indulgences  which  themselves 
refuse.  She  took  this  ver)-  ill  of  the  Marchioness.  On 
the  other  hand,  IMatta  was  asked  if  he  was  not  old  enough 
to  make  his  own  presents  himself  to  the  Marchioness  de 
Senantes,  without  sending  them  by  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammont.  This  roused  him  ;  for  of  himself,  he  would 
never  have  perceived  it  :  his  suspicions,  however,  were 
but  slight,  and  he  was  willing  to  have  them  removed. 
"I  must  confess,"  said  he  to  the  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
mont, "  that  they  make  love  here  quite  in  a  new  style  ; 
a  man  serves  here  without  reward  :  he  addresses  himself 
to  the  husband  when  he  is  in  love  with  the  wife,  and 
makes  presents  to  another  man's  mistress,  to  get  into  the 
good  graces  of  his  own.  The  Marchioness  is  much  ob- 
liged to  you  for  "    "It  is  you  who  are  obliged," 

replied  the  Chevalier,  "since  this  was  done  on  your 
account  :  I  was  ashamed  to  find  yon  had  never  )  et 
thought  of  presenting  her  with  any  trifling  token  of  your 
attention  :  do  you  know  that  the  people  of  this  court 
have  such  extraordinary  notions,  as  to  think  that  it  is 
rather  owing  to  inadvertency  that  you  never  yet  have 
had  the  spirit  to  make  your  mistress  the  smallest  pres- 
ent? For  shame!  how  ridiculous  it  is,  that  you  can 
never  think  for  yourself ! ' ' 

IMatta  took  this  rebuke,  without  making  any  answer, 
being  persuaded  that  he  had  in  some  measure  deserved 
it :  besides,  he  was  neither  sufficiently  jealous,  nor  siiffi- 
ciently  amorous,  to  think  any  more  of  it  ;  however,  as 
it  was  necessary  for  the  Chevalier's  affairs  that  Matta 
shotdd  be  acquainted  with  the  Marquis  de  Senantes,  he 
plagued  him  so  much  about  it,  that  at  last  he  complied. 
His  friend  introduced  him,  and  his  mistress  seemed 
pleased  with  this  proof  of  complaisance,  though  she  was 
resolved  that  he  should  gain  nothing  by  it  :  and  the  hus- 


74 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


baud,  being  gratified  with  a  piece  of  civility  which  he 
had  long  expected,  determined,  that  very  evening,  to 
give  them  a  supper  at  a  little  country  seat  of  his,  on  the 
banks  of  the  river,  very  near  the  city. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  answering  for  them  both, 
accepted  the  offer  ;  and  as  this  was  the  only  one  Matta 
would  not  have  refused  from  the  Marquis,  he  likewise 
consented.  The  Marquis  came  to  convey  them  in  his 
carriage  at  the  hour  appointed  ;  but  he  found  only  Matta. 
The  Chevalier  had  engaged  himself  to  play,  on  purpose 
that  they  might  go  without  him  :  Matta  was  for  waiting 
for  him,  so  great  was  his  fear  of  being  left  alone  with 
the  Marquis  ;  but  the  Chevalier  having  sent  to  desire 
them  to  go  on  before,  and  that  he  would  be  with  them 
as  soon  as  he  had  finished  his  game,  poor  Matta  was  ob- 
liged to  set  out  with  the  man  who,  of  all  the  world,  was 
most  oflFensive  to  him.  It  was  not  the  Chevalier's  inten- 
tion quickly  to  extricate  INIatta  out  of  this  embarrass- 
ment :  he  no  sooner  knew  that  they  were  gone,  than  he 
waited  on  the  Marchioness,  under  pretence  of  still  find- 
ing her  husband,  that  they  might  all  go  together  to 
supper. 

The  plot  was  in  a  fair  way  ;  and  as  the  IVIarchioness 
was  of  opinion  that  Matta's  indifference  merited  no  bet- 
ter treatment  from  her,  she  made  no  scruple  of  acting 
her  part  in  it :  she  therefore  waited  for  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammont  with  intentions  so  much  the  more  favorable, 
as  she  had  for  a  long  time  expected  him,  and  had 
some  curiosity  to  receive  a  visit  from  him  in  the 
absence  of  her  husband.  We  may  therefore  suppose 
that  this  first  opportunity  would  not  have  been  lost, 
if  Mademoiselle  de  Saint  Germain  had  not  unex- 
pectedly come  in,  almost  at  the  same  time  with  the 
Chevalier. 

She  was  more  handsome  and  more  entertaining  that 
day  than  she  had  ever  been  before;  however,  she  appeared 
to  them  very  ugly  and  very  tiresome  :  she  soon  perceived 


MKMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


75 


that  her  company  was  disagreeable,  and  being  deter- 
mined that  they  should  not  be  out  of  humor  with  her 
for  nothing,  after  having  passed  above  a  long  half  hour 
in  diverting  herself  with  their  uneasiness,  and  in  playing 
a  thousand  monkey  tricks,  which  she  plainly  saw  could 
never  be  more  unseasonable,  she  pulled  off  her  hood, 
scarf,  and  all  that  part  of  her  dress  which  ladies  lay 
aside,  when  in  a  familiar  manner  they  intend  to  pass  the 
day  anywhere.  The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  cursed  her 
in  his  heart,  while  she  continued  to  torment  him  for  being 
in  such  ill-humor  in  such  good  company  :  at  last  the 
Marchioness,  who  was  as  much  vexed  as  he  was,  said 
rather  drily  that  she  was  obliged  to  wait  on  her  Royal 
Highness  :  Mademoiselle  de  Saint  Germain  told  her  that 
she  would  have  the  honor  to  accompany  her,  if  it  would 
not  be  disagreeable  :  she  took  not  the  smallest  notice  of 
her  offer  ;  and  the  Chevalier,  finding  that  it  woiild  be 
entirely  useless  to  prolong  his  visit  at  that  time,  retired 
with  a  good  grace. 

As  soon  as  he  had  left  the  house,  he  sent  one  of  his 
scouts  to  desire  the  Marquis  to  sit  down  to  table  with  his 
company  without  waiting  for  him,  because  the  game 
might  not  perhaps  be  finished  as  soon  as  he  expected, 
but  that  he  would  be  with  him  before  supper  was  over. 
Having  despatched  this  messenger,  he  placed  a  sentinel 
at  the  Marchioness's  door,  in  hopes  that  the  tedious  Saint 
Germain  might  go  out  before  her  ;  but  this  was  in  vain, 
for  his  spy  came  and  told  him,  after  an  hour's  impatience 
and  suspense,  that  they  were  gone  out  together.  He 
found  that  there  was  no  chance  of  seeing  her  again  that 
day,  everj'thing  falling  out  contrary  to  his  wishes  ;  he 
was  forced  therefore  to  leave  the  Marchioness,  and  go  in 
quest  of  the  Marquis. 

While  these  things  were  going  on  in  the  city,  Matta 
was  not  much  diverted  in  the  country  :  as  he  was  preju- 
diced against  the  Marquis,  all  that  he  said  displeased 
him  :  he  cursed  the  Chevalier  heartily  for  the  tete-a-tete 


76 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


which  he  had  procured  him  ;  and  he  was  upon  the  point 
of  going  away,  when  he  fonnd  that  he  was  to  sit  down  to 
snpper  without  an}-  other  company. 

However,  as  his  host  was  very  choice  in  his  entertain- 
ments, and  had  the  best  wine  and  the  best  cook  in  all 
Piedmont,  the  sight  of  the  first  course  appeased  him  ; 
and  eating  most  voraciously,,  without  paying  any  atten- 
tion to  the  Marquis,  he  flattered  himself  that  the  supper 
would  end  without  any  dispute  ;  but  he  was  mistaken. 

When  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  was  at  first  endeav- 
oring to  bring  about  an  intercourse  between  the  Marquis 
and  Matta,  he  had  given  a  very  advantageous  character 
of  the  latter,  to  make  the  former  more  desirous  of  his  ac- 
quaintance; and  in  the  display  of  a  thousand  other  accom- 
plishments, knowing  what  an  infatuation  the  Marquis 
had  for  the  very  name  of  erudition,  he  assured  him  that 
Matta  was  one  of  the  most  learned  men  in  Europe. 

The  INIarquis,  therefore,  from  the  moment  they  sat 
down  to  supper,  had  expected  some  stroke  of  learning 
from  Alatta,  to  bring  his  own  into  play  ;  but  he  was  much 
out  in  his  reckoning;  no  one  had  read  less,  no  one  thought 
less,  and  no  one  had  ever  spoken  so  little  at  an  entertain- 
ment as  he  had  done  :  as  he  did  not  wish  to  enter  into 
conyersation,  he  opened  his  mouth  only  to  eat,  or  ask 
for  wine. 

The  other,  being  offended  at  a  silence  which  appeared 
to  him  affected,  and  wearied  with  having  uselessly 
attacked  him  upon  other  subjects,  thought  he  might  get 
something  out  of  him  by  changing  the  discourse  of  love 
and  gallantry  ;  and  therefore,  to  begin  the  subject,  he  ac- 
costed him  in  this  manner  : 

"Since  you  are  my  wife's  gallant  "  "I!"  said 

IMatta,  who  wished  to  carry  it  discreetly  :  "those  who 
told  you  so,  told  a  d — d  lie."  "Zounds,  sir,"  said 
the  Marquis,  "yoii  speak  in  a  tone  which  does  not  at  all 
become  you,  for  I  would  have  you  to  know,  notwith- 
standing your  contemptuous  airs,  that  the  Marchioness 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  (iRAMMONT. 


77 


de  Senantes  is  perhaps  as  worthy  of  your  attentions  as 
any  of  your  French  ladies,  and  that  I  have  known  some 
greatly  your  superiors,  who  have  thought  it  an  honor  to 
serve  her."  "Very  well,"  said  !\Iatta,  "I  think  she  is 
very  deserving,  and  since  you  insist  upon  it,  I  am  her 
servant  and  gallant,  to  oblige  you." 

"You  think,  perhaps,"  continued  the  other,  "that  the 
same  ciistom  prevails  in  this  country  as  in  your  own,  and 
that  the  ladies  have  lovers,  with  no  other  intentions  than 
to  grant  them  favors  :  undeceive  yourself,  if  you  please, 
and  know,  likewise,  that  even  if  such  events  were  fre- 
qixent  in  this  court,  I  should  not  be  at  all  uneasy." 
"Nothing  can  be  more  civil,"  said  Matta  ;  but  where- 
fore would  you  not?"  "  I  will  tell  you  why,"  replied 
he  :  "I  am  well  acquainted  with  the  affection  my  wife 
entertains  for  me  :  I  am  acquainted  with  her  discretion 
towards  all  the  world  ;  and,  what  is  more,  I  am  acquainted 
with  my  own  merit." 

"You  have  a  most  uncommon  acquaintance,  then," 
replied  Matta  ;  "I  congratulate  you  upon  it  ;  I  have  the 
honor  to  drink  it  in  a  bumper."  The  IMarquis  pledged 
him  ;  but  seeing  that  the  conversation  dropped  on  their 
ceasing  to  drink,  after  two  or  three  healths,  he  wished 
to  make  a  second  attempt,  and  attack  Matta  on  his  strong 
side,  that  is  to  say,  on  his  learning. 

He  desired  him,  therefore,  to  tell  him,  at  what  time  he 
thought  the  Allobroges  came  to  settle  in  Piedmont. 
Matta,  who  wished  him  and  his  Allobroges  at  the 
devil,  said,  that  it  must  be  in  the  time  of  the  civil  wars. 
"I  doubt  that,"  said  the  other.  "Just  as  you  like," 
said  Matta.  "Under  what  consulate?"  replied  the 
Marquis.  "Under  that  of  the  League,"  said  Matta, 
"when  the  Guises  brought  the  Lansquenets  into  France; 
but  what  the  devil  does  that  signify  ?  " 

The  Marquis  was  tolerably  warm,  and  naturally  sav- 
age, so  that  God  knows  how  the  conversation  would 
have  ended,  if  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  had  not  un- 


78 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


expected! y  come  in  to  appease  them.  It  was  some  time 
before  he  could  find  out  what  their  debate  was  ;  for  the 
one  had  forgotten  the  questions,  and  the  other  the 
answers,  which  had  disobliged  him,  in  order  to  reproach 
the  Chevalier  with  his  eternal  passion  for  play,  which 
made  him  always  uncertain.  The  Chevalier,  who  knew 
that  he  was  still  more  culpable  than  they  thought,  bore 
it  all  with  patience,  and  condemned  himself  more  than 
they  desired  :  this  appeased  them  ;  and  the  entertain- 
ment ended  with  greater  tranquility  than  it  had  begun. 
The  conversation  was  again  reduced  to  order  ;  but  he 
could  not  enliven  it  as  he  usually  did.  He  was  in  very 
ill  humor,  and  as  he  pressed  them  every  minute  to  rise 
from  the  table,  the  Marquis  was  of  opinion  that  he  had 
lost  a  great  deal.  Matta  said,  on  the  contrary,  that  he 
had  won  ;  but  for  want  of  precautions  had  made  perhaps 
an  unfortunate  retreat ;  and  asked  him  if  he  had  not 
stood  in  need  of  Serjeant  La  Place,  with  his  ambus- 
cade. 

This  piece  of  history  was  beyond  the  comprehension 
of  the  Marquis,  and  being  afraid  that  Matta  might  ex- 
plain it,  the  Chevalier  changed  the  discourse,  and  was 
for  rising  from  the  table  :  but  Matta  would  not  consent 
to  it.  This  effected  a  reconciliation  between  him  and  the 
Marquis,  who  thought  this  was  a  piece  of  civility  intended 
for  him  ;  however  it  was  not  for  him,  but  for  his  wine  to 
which  Matta  had  taken  a  prodigious  liking. 

The  Duchess,  who  knew  the  character  of  the  Marquis, 
was  charmed  with  the  account  which  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammont  gave  her  of  the  entertainment  and  conversa- 
tion :  she  sent  for  Matta  to  know  the  truth  of  it  from 
himself :  he  confessed,  that  before  the  Allobroges  were 
mentioned  the  Marquis  was  for  quarrelling  with  him, 
because  he  was  not  in  love  with  his  wife. 

Their  acquaintance  having  begun  in  this  manner,  all 
the  esteem  which  the  ]\Iarquis  had  formerly  expressed 
for  the  Chevalier  seemed  now  directed  towards  Matta  :  he 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


79 


went  every  day  to  pay  Matta  a  visit,  and  Matta  was  every 
day  with  his  wife.  This  did  not  at  all  suit  the  Cheva- 
lier :  he  repented  of  his  having  chid  Matta,  whose  assi- 
dnity  now  interrupted  all  his  schemes;  and  the  Marchion- 
ess was  still  more  embarrassed.  Whatever  wit  a  man 
may  have,  it  will  never  please  where  his  company  is 
disliked  ;  and  she  repented  that  she  had  been  formerly 
g:uiltv  of  some  trifling^  advances  towards  him. 

]\Iatta  began  to  find  charms  in  her  person,  and  might 
have  found  the  same  in  her  conversation,  if  she  had  been 
inclined  to  display  them  ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  be  in 
good  humor  with  persons  who  thwart  our  designs. 
While  his  passion  increased,  the  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
mont  was  solely  occupied  in  endeavoring  to  find  out 
some  method,  by  which  he  might  accomplish  his 
intrigue  ;  and  this  was  the  stratagem  which  he  put  into 
execution  to  clear  the  coast,  b\-  removing,  at  one  and 
the  same  time,  both  the  lover  and  the  husband. 

He  told  Matta,  that  they  ought  to  invite  the  Marquis 
to  supper  at  their  lodgings,  and  he  would  take  upon  him- 
self to  provide  everything  proper  for  the  occasion. 
Matta  desired  to  know  if  it  was  to  play  at  quinze,  and 
assured  him  that  he  should  take  care  to  render  abortive 
any  intention  he  might  have  to  engage  in  play,  and 
leave  him  alone  with  the  greatest  blockhead  in  all 
Europe.  The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  did  not  entertain 
any  such  thought,  being  persuaded  that  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  take  advantage  of  any  such  opportunity,  in 
whatever  manner  he  might  take  his  measures  ;  and  that 
they  would  seek  for  him  in  every  corner  of  the  city 
rather  than  allow  him  the  least  repose  :  his  whole  atten- 
tion was  therefore  employed  in  rendering  the  entertain- 
ment agreeable,  in  finding  out  means  of  prolonging  it,  in 
order  ultimately  to  kindle  some  dispiite  between  the 
Marquis  and  Matta.  For  this  purpose  he  put  himself  in 
the  best  humor  in  the  world,  and  the  wine  produced  the 
same  effect  on  the  rest  of  the  company. 


80 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  expressed  his  concern 
that  he  had  not  been  able  to  give  the  Marqnis  a  little 
concert,  as  he  had  intended  in  the  morning ;  for  the 
mnsicians  had  been  all  pre-engaged.  Upon  this  the 
iVIarqnis  nndertook  to  have  them  at  his  coxintry-house 
the  following  evening,  and  invited  the  same  company 
to  sup  with  him  there.  Matta  asked  what  the  dc\'il 
they  wanted  with  music,  and  maintained  that  it  was  of 
no  use  on  siich  occasions  but  for  women  who  had  some- 
thing to  say  to  their  lovers,  while  the  fiddles  prevented 
them  from  being  overheard,  or  for  fools  who  had  nothing 
to  .say  when  the  music  ended.  They  ridiculed  all  his 
arguments  :  the  party  was  fixed  for  the  next  day,  and 
the  music  was  voted  by  the  majority  of  voices.  The 
Marquis,  to  console  Matta,  as  well  as  to  do  honor  to  the 
entertainment,  toasted  a  great  many  healths  :  INIatta  was 
more  ready  to  listen  to  his  arguments  on  this  to])ic  than 
in  a  di.spute  ;  but  the  Chevalier,  perceiving  that  a  little 
would  irritate  them,  desired  nothing  more  earnestly 
than  to  see  them  engaged  in  some  new  controversy.  It 
was  in  vain  that  he  had  from.time  to  time  started  some 
subject  of  discourse  with  this  intention  ;  but  having 
luckily  thought  of  asking  what  was  his  lady's  maiden 
name,  Senantes,  who  was  a  great  genealogist,  as  all 
fools  are  who  have  good  memories,  immediately  began 
by  tracing  out  her  family,  by  an  endless,  confused  string 
of  lineage.  The  Chevalier  .seemed  to  listen  to  him  with 
great  attention  ;  and  perceiving  that  INIatta  was  almost 
out  of  patience,  he  desired  him  to  attend  to  what  the 
Marquis  was  saying,  for  that  nothing  could  be  more 
entertaining.  "All  this  may  be  very  true,"  said  Matta  ; 
"  but  for  my  part,  I  must  confess,  if  I  were  married,  I 
.should  rather  choo.se  to  inform  myself  who  was  the  real 
father  of  my  children,  than  who  were  my  wife's  grand- 
fathers." The  Marquis,  smiling  at  this  rudeness,  did 
not  leave  off  until  he  had  traced  back  the  ancestors  of 
his  .spouse,  from  line  to  line,  as  far  as  Yolande  de  Se- 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


81 


nantes  :  after  this  he  offered  to  prove,  iu  less  than  lialf 
an  hour,  that  the  Grammonts  came  originally  from 
Spain.  "Very  well,"  said  Matta,  "and  pray  what 
does  it  signify  to  lis  from  whence  the  Grammonts  are 
descended  ?  Do  not  you  know,  sir,  that  it  is  better  to 
know  nothing  at  all,  than  to  know  too  much  ?  " 

The  Marquis  maintained  the  contrary  with  great 
warmth,  and  was  preparing  a  formal  argument  to  prove 
that  an  ignorant  man  is  a  fool  ;  but  the  Chevalier  de 
Granimont,  who  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  Matta, 
saw  very  clearly  that  he  would  send  the  logician  to  the 
devil  before  he  should  arrive  at  the  conclusion  of  his 
syllogism  :  for  which  reason,  interposing  as  soon  as  they 
began  to  raise  their  voices,  he  told  them  it  was  ridic- 
ulous to  quarrel  about  an  affair  in  itself  so  trivial,  and 
treated  the  matter  in  a  serious  light,  that  it  might 
make  the  greater  impression.  Thus  supper  terminated 
peaceably,  owing  to  the  care  he  took  to  suppress  all 
disputes,  and  to  substitute  plenty  of  wine  in  their  stead. 

The  next  day  Matta  went  to  the  chase,  the  Chevalier 
de  Grammont  to  the  bagnio,  and  the  Marquis  to  his 
country  house.  While  the  latter  was  making  the  neces- 
sary preparations  for  his  guests,  not  forgetting  the 
music,  and  Matta  pursuing  his  game  to  get  an  appe- 
tite, the  Chevalier  was  meditating  on  the  execution  of 
his  project. 

As  soon  as  he  had  regulated  his  plan  of  operations  in 
his  own  mind,  he  privately  sent  anonymoiis  intel- 
ligence to  the  officer  of  the  guard  at  the  palace  that 
the  Marquis  de  Senantes  had  had  some  words  with 
Monsieur  de  Matta  the  preceding  night  at  supper  ;  that 
the  one  had  gone  out  in  the  morning,  and  the  other 
could  not  be  found  in  the  city. 

]\Iadame  Royale,  alarmed  at  this  advice,  immediately 
sent  for  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  :  he  appeared  sur- 
prised when  her  highness  mentioned  the  affair  :  he  con- 
fessed, indeed,  that  some  high  words  had  passed  between 
6 


82 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


them,  but  tliat  he  did  not  believe  either  of  them  would 
have  remembered  them  the  next  day.  He  said  that  if 
no  mischief  had  yet  taken  place,  the  best  way  would 
be  to  secure  them  both  until  the  morning,  and  that  if 
they  could  be  found,  he  would  undertake  to  reconcile 
them,  and  to  obliterate  all  grievances  :  in  this  there  was 
no  great  difficulty.  On  inquiry  at  the  Marquis's  they 
were  informed  that  he  was  gone  to  his  country-house  : 
there  certainly  he  was,  and  there  they  found  him  ;  the 
officer  put  him  mider  an  arrest,  without  assigning  any 
reason  for  so  doing,  and  left  him  in  very  great  surprise. 

Immediately  upon  Matta's  return  from  hunting,  her 
Royal  Highness  sent  the  same  officer  to  desire  him  to 
give  her  his  word  that  he  would  not  stir  out  that  even- 
ing. This  compliment  very  much  surprised  him,  more 
particularly  as  no  reason  was  assigned  for  it.  He  was 
expected  at  a  good  entertainment,  he  was  dying  with 
hunger,  and  nothing  appeared  to  him  more  unreasonable 
than  to  oblige  him  to  stay  at  home,  in  a  situation  like 
the  present  ;  but  he  had  given  his  word,  and  not  know- 
ing to  what  this  might  tend,  his  only  resource  was  to 
send  for  his  friend  ;  but  his  friend  did  not  come  to  him 
until  his  return  from  the  country.  He  had  there  found 
the  ]\Iarquis  in  the  midst  of  his  fiddlers,  and  very  much 
vexed  to  find  himself  a  prisoner  in  his  own  house  on  ac- 
count of  Matta,  whom  he  was  waiting  for  in  order  to 
feast  him  :  he  complained  of  him  bitterly  to  the  Cheva- 
lier de  Grammont  :  he  said  that  he  did  not  believe  that 
he  had  oifended  him  ;  but  that,  since  he  was  very  desir- 
ous of  a  quarrel,  he  desired  the  Chevalier  to  acquaint 
him,  if  he  felt  the  least  displeasure  on  the  present  occa- 
sion, he  should,  on  the  very  first  opportunity,  receive 
what  is  called  satisfaction.  The  Chevalier  de  Grammont 
assured  him  that  no  such  thought  had  ever  entered  the 
mind  of  Matta  ;  that  on  tlie  contrary,  he  knew  that  he 
very  greatly  esteenu-d  him  ;  tliat  all  this  could  alone 
arise  from  the  extreme  tenderness  of  his  lady,  who,  being 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


83 


alanned  upon  the  report  of  the  servants  who  waited  at 
table,  must  have  gone  to  her  Royal  Highness,  in  order 
to  prevent  an)-  unpleasant  consequences  ;  that  he  thought 
this  the  more  probable,  as  he  had  often  told  the  Mar- 
chioness, when  speaking  of  Matta,  that  he  was  the  best 
swordsman  in  France. 

The  Marquis,  being  a  little  pacified,  said  he  was  very 
much  obliged  to  him,  that  he  would  severely  chide  his 
wife  for  her  unseasonable  tenderness,  and  that  he  was 
extremely  desirous  of  again  enjoying  the  pleasure  of  his 
dear  friend  Matta' s  company. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  assured  him  that  he 
would  use  all  his  endeavors  for  that  purpose,  and  at  the 
same  time  gave  strict  charge  to  his  guard  not  to  let  him 
escape  without  orders  from  the  Court,  as  he  seemed  fully 
bent  upon  fighting,  and  they  would  be  responsible  for 
him  :  there  was  no  occasion  to  say  more  to  have  him 
strictly  watched,  though  there  was  no  necessity  for  it. 

One  being  thus  safely  lodged,  his  next  step  was  to 
seciire  the  other :  he  returned  immediately  to  town  :  and 
as  soon  as  Matta  saw  him,  "  What  the  devil,"  said  he, 
"is  the  meaning  of  this  farce  which  I  am  obliged  to  act? 
for  my  part,  I  cannot  understand  the  foolish  customs  of 
this  country  ;  how  comes  it  that  they  make  me  a  prisoner 
upon  my  parole?"  "How  comes  it?"  said  the  Cheva- 
lier de  Grammont,  "it  is  because  you  yourself  are  far 
more  unaccountable  than  all  their  customs  ;  )  ou  cannot 
help  disputing  with  a  peevish  fellow,  whom  you  ought 
only  to  laugh  at ;  some  officious  footman  has  no  doubt 
been  talking  of  your  last  night's  dispute  ;  you  were  seen 
to  go  out  of  town  in  the  morning,  and  the  Marquis  soon 
after  ;  was  not  this  sxifficient  to  make  her  Royal  High- 
ness think  herself  obliged  to  take  these  precautions? 
The  Marquis  is  in  custody  ;  they  have  only  required  your 
parole  ;  so  far,  therefore,  from  taking  the  afiair  in  the 
sense  you  do,  I  should  send  very  humbly  to  thank  her 
Highness  for  the  kindness  she  has  manifested  towards 


84 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


yoli  in  putting  >-ou  under  arrest,  since  it  is  only  on  your 
account  that  she  interests  herself  in  the  affair." 

Matta  charged  him  not  to  fail  to  express  to  her  Royal 
Highness  the  grateful  sense  he  had  of  her  favor,  though 
in  truth  he  as  little  feared  the  Marquis  as  he  loved  him  ; 
and  it  is  impossible  to  express  the  degree  of  his  fortitude 
in  stronger  terms. 

As  soon  as  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  perceived  that 
everything  coincided  with  his  wishes,  and  that  towards 
the  end  of  the  entertainment  the  toasts  went  merrily 
round,  he  knew  he  was  sure  of  his  man  till  next  day  : 
then  taking  him  aside  with  the  permission  of  the  com- 
pany, and  making  use  of  a  false  confidence  in  order  to 
disguise  a  real  treachen,-,  he  acquainted  him,  after  hav- 
ing sworn  him  several  times  to  secrecy,  that  he  had  at 
last  prevailed  upon  the  little  Saint  Germain  to  grant  him 
an  interview  that  night ;  for  which  reason  he  would  take 
his  leave,  under  pretence  of  going  to  pla>-  at  Court ;  he 
therefore  desired  him  fully  to  satisfy  the  company  that 
he  would  not  have  left  them  on  any  other  account,  as 
the  Piedmontese  are  naturally  mistrustful.  IMatta  prom- 
ised he  would  manage  this  point  with  discretion  ;  that  he 
would  make  an  apolog}'  for  him,  and  that  there  was  no 
occasion  for  his  personally  taking  leave  :  then,  after  con- 
gratulating him  upon  the  happy  posture  of  his  affairs,  he 
sent  him  away  with  all  the  expedition  and  secrecy  im- 
aginable ;  so  great  was  his  fear  lest  his  friend  should 
lose  the  present  opportunity. 

Matta  then  returned  to  the  company,  much  pleased 
with  the  confidence  which  had  been  placed  in  him,  and 
with  the  share  he  had  in  the  success  of  this  adventure. 

It  was  late  at  night  before  the  company  broke  up,  and 
Matta  went  to  bed,  very  well  satisfied  with  what  he  had 
done  for  his  friend  ;  and,  if  we  may  credit  appearances, 
this  friend  enjoyed  the  fruit  of  his  perfidy.  The  amorous 
Marchioness  received  him  like  one  who  wished  to  en- 
hance the  value  of  the  favor  she  bestowed  ;  her  charms 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


85 


were  far  from  being  neglected  ;  and  if  there  are  any  cir- 
cumstances in  which  we  may  detest  the  traitor  while  we 
profit  by  the  treason,  this  was  not  one  of  them  ;  and  how- 
ever successful  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  was  in  his 
intrigues,  it  was  not  owing  to  him  that  the  contrary  was 
not  believed  ;  but,  be  that  as  it  may,  being  convinced 
that  in  love  whatever  is  gained  by  address  is  gained  fairly, 
it  does  not  appear  that  he  ever  showed  the  smallest  de- 
gree of  repentance  for  this  trick.  But  it  is  now  time 
for  us  to  take  him  from  the  court  of  Savoy,  to  see  him 
shine  in  that  of  France. 


ANNE  OF  AUSTRIA. 


CHAPTER  V. 


The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  upon  his  return  to 
France,  sustained,  with  the  greatest  success,  the  reputa- 
tion he  had  acquired  abroad  :  alert  in  play,  active  and 
vigilant  in  love  ;  sometimes  siiccessful,  and  always  feared, 
in  his  intrigues  ;  in  war  alike  prepared  for  the  events  of 
good  or  ill  fortune  ;  possessing  an  inexhaustible  fund  of 
pleasantry  in  the  former,  and  full  of  expedients  and  dex- 
terity in  the  latter. 

Zealously  attached  to  the  Prince  de  Conde  *  from  in- 


*  Louis  of  Bourbon,  Duke  d'Engliien,  afterwards,  bj'  the  death  of  his 
father  in  1656,  Priuce  de  Conde.  Of  this  great  man  Cardinal  de  Retz 
says  :  "  He  was  horn  a  general,  which  never  hajjpened  but  to  Caesar,  to 
Spinola,  and  to  himself.  He  has  equalled  the  first  :  he  has  surj^assed 
the  second.  Intrepidity  is  one  of  the  least  shining  .strokes  in  his  char- 
acter. Nature  had  formed  him  with  a  mind  as  great  as  his  courage. 
Fortune,  in  setting  him  out  in  a  time  of  wars,  has  given  this  last  a  full 
extent  to  work  in  :  his  birth,  or  rather  his  education,  in  a  family  de- 
voted and  enslaved  to  the  court,  has  kept  the  first  within  too  strait 
bounds.  He  was  not  taught  time  enough  the  great  and  general  maxims 
which  alone  are  able  to  form  men  to  think  always  consistently.  He 
never  had  time  to  learn  them  of  himself,  because  he  was  prevented 
from  his  youth,  hy  the  great  affairs  that  fell  unexpectedh-  to  his  .share, 
and  by  the  continual  success  he  met  with.  This  defect  in  him  was  the 
cause,  that  with  the  soul  iu  the  world  the  least  inclined  to  evil,  he  has 

m 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


87 


clination,  he  was  a  witness,  and,  if  we  ma}'  be  allowed 
to  say  it,  his  companion,  in  the  i^lory  he  had  acqnired  at 
the  celebrated  battles  of  Lens,  Norlingnen,  and  Fri- 
bonrg  ;  *  and  the  details  he  so  freqnently  gave  of  them 
were  far  from  diminishing  their  lustre. 

So  long  as  he  had  only  some  scruples  of  conscience, 
and  a  thousand  interests  to  sacrifice,  he  quitted  all  to 
follow  a  man,  whom  strong  motives  and  resentments, 
which  in  some  manner  appeared  excusable,  had  with- 
drawn from  the  paths  of  rectitude  :  he  adhered  to  him  in 
his  first  disgrace,  with  a  constancy  of  which  there  are 
few  examples  ;  but  he  could  not  submit  to  the  injuries 
which  he  afterwards  received,  and  which  such  an  in- 
violable attachment  so  little  merited.  Therefore,  with- 
out fearing  any  reproach  for  a  conduct  which  sufficiently 


committed  injuries  ;  that  with  the  heart  of  an  Alexander,  he  has,  like 
him,  had  his  failings ;  that  with  a  wonderful  understanding,  he  has 
acted  imprudently  ;  that  ha\nng  all  the  qualities  which  the  Duke 
Francis  of  Guise  had,  he  has  not  served  the  state  in  some  occasions  so 
well  as  he  ought ;  and  that  having  likewise  all  the  qualities  of  the 
Duke  Henry  of  Guise,  he  has  not  carried  faction  so  far  as  he  might. 
He  could  not  come  up  to  the  height  of  his  merit ;  which,  though  it  be 
a  defect,  nmst  yet  be  owned  to  be  ver^-  uncommon,  and  only  to  be 
foimd  in  persons  of  the  greatest  abilities."  I\fcuioirs,  vol.  i.,  p.  248, 
edit.  1723.  He  retired  from  the  army,  soon  after  the  death  of  Turenne, 
to  Chantilly,  "from  whence,"  says  Voltaire,  "he  very  rarely  came  to 
Versailles,  to  behold  his  glory  eclipsed  in  a  place  where  the  courtier 
never  regards  anj'thing  but  favor.  He  passed  the  remainder  of  his 
daj-s,  tormented  with  the  gout,  relieving  the  severity  of  his  pains,  and 
emplo)-ing  the  leisure  of  his  retreat  in  the  conversation  of  men  of 
genius  of  all  kinds,  with  which  France  then  abounded.  He  was  worthy 
of  their  conversation  ;  as  he  was  not  unacquainted  with  any  of  those 
arts  and  sciences  in  which  they  shone.  He  contiimed  to  be  admired 
even  in  his  retreat  ;  but  at  last  that  devouring  fire,  which,  in  his  youth, 
had  made  him  a  hero,  impetuous,  and  full  of  pa.ssions,  having  consumed 
the  strength  of  his  body,  which  was  naturally  rather  agile  than  robust, 
he  declined  before  his  time  ;  and  the  strength  of  his  mind  decaying 
with  that  of  his  bod}-,  there  remained  nothing  of  the  great  Conde 
during  the  last  two  years  of  his  life.  He  died  in  1686."  Age  of  Louis 
XIV.,  chap.  II.    He  was  aged  66  years. 

*These  were  fought  in  the  years  1648,  1645,  and  1644. 


88 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


justified  itself,  as  he  had  formerly  deviated  from  his 
duty  by  entering  into  the  service  of  the  Prince  de  Condc, 
he  thought  he  had  a  right  to  leave  him  to  return  again 
to  his  duty. 

His  peace  was  soon  made  at  Court,  where  many,  far 
more  culpable  than  himself,  were  immediately  received 
in  favor,  when  they  desired  it  ;  for  the  queen,*  still  ter- 
rified at  the  dangers  into  which  the  civil  wars  had 
plunged  the  State  at  the  commencement  of  her  regency, 
endeavored  by  lenient  measures  to  conciliate  the  minds 
of  the  people.    The  policy  of  the  minister  t  was  neither 


*  Anne  of  Austria,  daughter  of  Philip  III.  of  Spain,  widow  of  Louis 
XIII.,  to  whom  she  was  married  in  1615,  and  mother  of  Louis  XIV. 
She  died  in  1666.  Cardinal  de  Retz  speaks  of  her  in  the  following 
terms:  "The  queen  had  more  than  anybody  whom  I  ever  knew,  of 
that  sort  of  wit  which  was  necessary  for  her  not  to  appear  a  fool  to 
those  that  did  not  know  her.  She  had  in  her  more  of  harshness  than 
haughtiness  ;  more  of  haughtiness  than  of  greatness  ;  more  of  outward 
appearance  than  reality  ;  more  regard  to  money  than  liberality  ;  more 
of  liberality  than  of  self-interest ;  more  of  self-interest  than  disinterest- 
edness :  she  was  more  tied  to  persons  by  habit  than  by  affection  ;  she 
had  more  of  insensibility  than  of  cruelty  ;  she  had  a  better  memorj^  for 
injuries  than  for  benefits  ;  her  intention  towards  piety  was  greater  than 
her  piety  ;  she  had  in  her  more  of  obstinacy  than  of  firmness ;  and 
more  incapacity  than  of  all  the  rest  which  I  mentioned  before."  Me- 
moirs, vol.  i.,  p.  247. 

t  Cardinal  jMazarin,  who,  during  a  few  of  the  latter  years  of  his  life, 
governed  France.  He  died  at  Vincennes  the  9th  of  March,  1661,  aged 
59  years,  leaving  as  heir  to  his  name  and  property  the  Marquis  de  la 
Meilleray,  who  tnarried  his  niece,  and  took  the  title  of  Duke  of  INIazarin. 
On  his  death,  Louis  XIV.  and  the  court  appeared  in  mourning,  an 
honor  not  common,  though  Henrj^  IV.  had  shown  it  to  the  memory  of 
Gabrielle  d'Kstreds.  Voltaire,  who  appears  imwilling  to  ascribe  much 
ability  to  the  cardinal,  takes  an  opportunitj-,  on  occasion  of  his  death, 
to  make  the  following  observation  :  "We  cannot  refrain  from  combat- 
ing the  opinion,  which  supposes  prodigious  abilities,  and  a  genius 
almost  divine,  in  those  who  have  governed  empires  with  .some  degree 
of  success.  It  is  not  a  superior  penetration  that  makes  .statesmen  ;  it 
is  their  character.  All  men,  how  inconsiderable  soever  their  share  of 
sense  may  be,  see  their  own  interest  nearly  alike.  A  citizen  of  Hern 
or  Amsterdam,  in  this  respect,  is  equal  to  Sejanus,  Ximenes,  T?ucking- 
ham,  Richelieu,  or  Mazarin  ;  but  our  conduct  and  our  enterprises  de- 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


89 


sanguinary  nor  revengeful  :  his  favorite  maxim  was 
rather  to  appease  the  minds  of  the  discontented  by  lenity 
than  to  have  recourse  to  violent  measures  ;  to  be  content 
with  losing  nothing  by  the  war,  without  being  at  the 
expense  of  gaining  any  advantage  from  the  enemy  :  to 
suffer  his  character  to  be  very  severely  handled,  provided 
he  could  amass  much  wealth,  and  to  spin  out  the  minor- 
ity to  the  greatest  possible  extent. 

His  avidity  to  heap  up  riches  was  not  alone  confined 
to  the  thousand  different  means,  with  which  he  was  fur- 
nished by  his  authority,  and  the  situation  in  which  he 
was  placed:  his  whole  pursuit  was  gain:  he  was  naturally 
fond  of  gaming  ;  but  he  only  played  to  enrich  himself, 
and  therefore,  whenever  he  found  an  opportunity,  he 
cheated. 

As  he  found  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  possessed  a 
great  deal  of  wit,  and  a  great  deal  of  money,  he  was  a 
man  according  to  his  wishes,  and  soon  became  one  of  his 
set.  The  Chevalier  soon  perceived  the  artfulness  and 
dishonesty  of  the  Cardinal,  and  thought  it  was  allowable 
in  him  to  put  in  practice  those  talents  which  he  had 
received  from  nature,  not  only  in  his  own  defence,  hnt 
even  to  attack  him  whenever  an  opportunity  offered.  This 
would  certainly  be  the  place  to  mention  these  particulars; 
but  who  can  describe  them  with  such  ease  and  elegance 
as  may  be  expected  by  those  who  have  heard  his  own 
relation  of  them  ?  \^ain  is  the  attempt  to  endeavor  to 
transcribe  these  entertaining  anecdotes  :  their  spirit 
seems  to  evaporate  upon  paper;  and  in  whatever  light 
they  are  exposed  the  delicacy  of  their  coloring  and  their 
beauty  is  lost. 

It  is,  then,  enough  to  say,  that  upon  all  occasions 
where  address  was  reciprocally  employed,  the  Chevalier 
gained  the  advantage  ;  and  that  if  he  paid  his  court  badly 


pend  absolutely  on  our  natural  dispositions,  and  our  success  depends 
upon  fortune."    A^^e  of  Louis  XIV.,  chap.  5. 


90 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


to  the  minister,  he  had  the  consokitiou  to  find,  that  those 
who  suffered  themselves  to  be  cheated,  in  the  end  gained 
no  great  advantage  from  their  complaisance  ;  for  they 
always  continued  in  an  abject  submission,  while  the 
Chevalier  de  Granimont,  on  a  thousand  different  occa- 
sions, never  put  himself  under  the  least  restraint.  Of 
which  the  following  is  one  instance: 

The  Spanish  anny,  commanded  by  the  Prince  de 
Condc  and  the  archduke,*  besieged  Arras.  The  Court 
was  advanced  as  far  as  Peronne.  f  The  enemy,  by  the 
capture  of  this  place,  would  have  procured  a  reputation 
for  their  army  of  which  they  were  in  great  need  ;  as  the 
French,  for  a  considerable  time  past,  had  evinced  a  supe- 
riority in  every  engagement. 

The  Prince  supported  a  tottering  party,  as  far  as  their 
usual  inactivity  and  irresolution  permitted  him  ;  but  as 
in  the  events  of  wAr  it  is  necessary  to  act  independently 
on  some  occasions,  which,  if  once  suffered  to  escape,  can 
never  be  retrieved  ;  for  want  of  this  power  it  frequently 
happened  that  his  great  abilities  were  of  no  avail.  The 
Spanish  infantry  had  never  recovered  itself  since  the  bat- 
tle of  Rocroy  ;  X  and  he  who  had  ruined  them  by  that 
victory,  by  fighting  against  them,  was  the  only  man 
who  now,  by  commanding  their  army,  was  capable  of 
repairing  the  mischief  he  had  done  them.  But  the  jeal- 
ousy of  the  generals,  and  the  distrust  attendant  upon 
their  counsels,  tied  up  his  hands. 

Nevertheless,  the  siege  of  Arras  §  was  vigorously 

*  Leopold,  brother  of  the  Emperor  Ferdinand  III. 

t  A  little  but  .stronjf  town,  standing  among  marshes  on  the  river 
Sonnne,  in  Picard)'. 

^  This  famous  battle  was  fought  and  won  19th  May,  1643,  ^^'^^  days 
after  the  death  of  Louis  XIII. 

'i  Voltaire  observes,  that  it  was  the  fortune  of  Turenne  and  Conde  to 
be  ahvaj's  victorious  when  they  fought  at  the  head  of  the  French,  and 
to  be  vanquished  when  they  commanded  the  Spaniards.  This  was 
Condd's  fate  before  Arras,  August  25,  1654,  when  he  and  the  archduke 
besieged  that  city.    Turenne  attacked  them  in  their  camp,  and  forced 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


91 


carried  on.  The  Cardinal  was  very  sensible  liow  dis- 
honorable it  would  be  to  suffer  this  place  to  be  taken 
under  his  nose,  and  almost  in  sight  of  the  king.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  was  very  hazardous  to  attempt  its  relief, 
the  Prince  de  Conde  being  a  man  who  never  neglected 
the  smallest  precaution  for  the  security  of  his  lines  ;  and 
if  lines  are  attacked  and  not  forced,  the  greatest  danger 
threatens  the  assailants.  For,  the  more  furious  the 
assault,  the  greater  is  the  disorder  in  the  retreat  ;  and  no 
man  in  the  world  knew  so  well  as  the  Prince  de  Conde 
how  to  make  the  best  use  of  an  advantage.  The  army, 
commanded  by  Monsieur  de  Turenne,  was  considerably 
weaker  than  that  of  the  enemy  ;  it  was,  likewise,  the 
only  resource  they  had  to  depend  upon.  If  this  army 
was  defeated,  the  loss  of  Arras  was  not  the  only  misfor- 
tune to  be  dreaded. 

The  Cardinal,  whose  genius  was  happily  adapted  to 
such  junctures,  where  deceitful  negotiations  could  extri- 
cate him  out  of  difficulties,  was  filled  with  terror  at  the 
sight  of  imminent  danger,  or  of  a  decisive  event :  he  was 
of  opinion  to  lay  siege  to  some  other  place,  the  capture 
of  which  might  prove  an  indemnification  for  the  loss  of 
Arras  ;  but  Monsieur  de  Turenne,  who  was  altogether  of 
a  different  opinion  from  the  Cardinal,  resolved  to  march 
towards  the  enemy,  and  did  not  acquaint  him  with  his 
intentions  until  he  was  upon  his  march.  The  courier 
arrived  in  the  midst  of  his  distress,  and  redoubled 
his  apprehensions  and  alarms  ;  but  there  was  then  no 
remedy. 


their  lines  :  the  troops  of  the  archduke  were  cut  to  pieces  ;  and  Conde, 
with  two  regiments  of  French  and  Lorrainers,  alone  sustained  the  efforts 
of  Turenne's  army  ;  and,  while  the  archduke  was  flying,  he  defeated  the 
Marshal  de  Hoquincourt,  repulsed  the  Marshal  de  la  Ferte,  and  retreated 
victoriously  himself,  by  covering  the  retreat  of  the  vanquished  vSpan- 
iards.  The  king  of  Spain,  in  his  letter  to  him  after  this  engagement, 
had  these  words  :  "  I  have  been  informed  that  everything  was  lost,  aud 
that  }-ou  have  recovered  everything." 


92 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


The  Marshal,  whose  great  reputation  had  gained  him 
the  confidence  of  the  troops,  had  determined  upon  his 
measures  before  an  express  order  from  the  Court  could 
prevent  him.  This  was  one  of  those  occasions  in  which 
the  difficulties  you  encounter  heighten  the  glory  of  suc- 
cess. Though  the  general's  capacity,  in  some  measure, 
afforded  comfort  to  the  Court,  they  nevertheless  were 
upon  the  eve  of  an  event,  which  in  one  way  or  other 
must  terminate  both  their  hopes  and  their  fears  :  while 
the  rest  of  the  courtiers  were  giving  various  opinions 
concerning  the  issue,  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  deter- 
mined to  be  an  eye-witness  of  it  ;  a  resolution  which 
greatly  surprised  the  Court ;  for  those  who  had  seen  as 
many  actions  as  he  had,  seemed  to  be  exempted  from  such 
eagerness  ;  but  it  was  in  vain  that  his  friends  opposed 
his  resolutions. 

The  king  was  pleased  with  his  intention  ;  and  the 
queen  appeared  no  less  satisfied.  He  assured  her  that  he 
would  bring  her  good  news  ;  and  she  promised  to  embrace 
him,  if  he  was  as  good  as  his  word.  The  Cardinal 
made  the  same  promise :  to  the  latter,  however,  he 
did  not  pay  much  attention  ;  yet  he  believed  it  sincere, 
because  the  keeping  of  it  would  cost  him  nothing. 

He  .set  out  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening  with  Caseau, 
whom  INIonsieur  de  Turenne  had  sent  express  to  their 
majesties.  The  Duke  of  York,*  and  the  Marquis 
d'Humieres,t  commanded  under  the  INIarshal  :  the  latter 
was  upon  duty  when  the  Chevalier  arrived,  it  being 
scarce  daylight.    The  Duke  of  York  did  not  at  first  rec- 


*  Priorato,  in  his  Memoirs  of  Cardinal  Mazarin,  mentions  other 
En<;lishnien  besides  the  Duke  of  York  being  present ;  as  Lords  Gerrard, 
Barclay,  and  Jermyn,  wth  others.  Memoirs,  i2nio,  1673,  tome  i.,  part 
3.  P-  365- 

t  Louis  de  Crevans,  Mar^chal  of  France.  He  died  1694.  Voltaire  says 
of  him,  that  he  was  the  first  who,  at  the  siege  of  Arras,  in  1658,  was 
served  in  silver  in  the  trenches,  and  had  ragouts  and  entremets  ser\'ed 
up  to  his  table. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


93 


ollect  him  ;  but  the  Marquis  d'Humi^res,  running  to 
him  with  open  arms,  "  I  thought,"  said  he,  "  if  any  man 
came  from  court  to  pay  us  a  visit  upon  such  an  occasion 
as  this,  it  would  be  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont.  Well," 
continued  he,  "what  are  they  doing  at  Peronne?" 
"  They  are  in  great  consternation,"  replied  the  Chevalier. 
"And  what  do  they  think  of  us?"  "They  think," 
said  he,  "that  if  you  beat  the  Prince,  you  will  do  no 
more  than  your  duty  ;  if  you  are  beaten,  they  will  think 
you  fools  and  madmen,  thus  to  have  risked  everything, 
withoiit  considering  the  consequences. "  "Truly,"  said 
the  Marquis,  "you  bring  us  very  comfortable  news. 
Will  you  now  go  to  Monsieur  de  Turenne's  quarters,  to 
acquaint  him  with  it ;  or  will  you  choose  rather  to  repose 
yourself  in  mine  ?  for  you  have  been  riding  post  all  last 
night,  and  perhaps  did  not  experience  much  rest  in  the 
preceding."  "Where  have  you  heard  that  the  Chevalier 
de  Grammont  had  ever  any  occasion  for  sleep?  "  replied 
he:  "Only  order  me  a  horse,  that  I  may  have  the  honor 
to  attend  the  Duke  of  York  ;  for,  most  likely,  he  is  not 
in  the  field  so  early,  except  to  visit  some  posts." 

The  advanced  guard  was  only  at  cannon-shot  from 
that  of  the  enemy.  As  soon  as  they  arrived  there,  ' '  I 
should  like,"  said  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  "to  ad- 
vance as  far  as  the  sentry  which  is  posted  on  that  emi- 
nence :  I  have  some  friends  and  acquaintance  in  their 
army,  whom  I  should  wish  to  inquire  after  :  I  hope  the 
Duke  of  York  will  give  me  permission."  At  these 
words  he  advanced.  The  sentry,  seeing  him  come  for- 
ward directly  to  his  post,  stood  iipon  his  guard  :  the 
Chevalier  stopped  as  soon  as  he  was  within  shot  of  him. 
The  sentry  answered  the  sign  which  was  made,  to  him, 
and  made  another  to  the  officer,  who  had  begun  to  ad- 
vance as  soon  as  he  had  seen  the  Chevalier  come  forward, 
and  was  soon  up  with  him  ;  but  seeing  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammont  alone,  he  made  no  difficulty  to  let  him  ap- 
proach.   He  desired  leave  of  this  officer  to  inquire  after 


94 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


some  relations  he  had  in  their  army,  and  at  the  same 
time  asked  if  the  Duke  d'  Arscot  was  at  the  siege.  "  Sir , " 
said  he,  "there  he  is,  just  alighted  imder  those  trees, 
which  yon  see  on  the  left  of  our  grand  guard  :  it  is 
hardly  a  minute  since  he  was  here  with  the  Prince 
d'Aremberg,  his  brother,  the  Baron  de  Limbec,  and 
Louvigny."  "May  I  see  them  upon  parole?"  said  the 
Chevalier.  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  if  I  were  allowed  to  quit 
niy  post,  I  would  do  myself  the  honor  of  accompanying 
you  thither  ;  but  I  will  send  to  acquaint  them  that  the 
Chevalier  de  Grammont  desires  to  speak  to  them  and, 
after  having  despatched  one  of  his  guard  towards  them, 
he  returned.  "Sir,"  said  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont, 
"may  I  take  the  liberty  to  inquire  how  I  came  to  be 
known  to  you  ?  "  "  Is  it  possible,"  said  the  other,  "that 
the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  should  forget  La  Motte, 
who  liad  the  honor  to  serve  so  long  in  his  regiment?  " 
"What !  is  it  you,  my  good  friend,  La  Motte?  Truly, 
I  was  to  blame  for  not  remembering  you,  though  you 
are  in  a  dress  very  different  from  that  which  I  first  saw 
you  in  at  Bruxelles,  when  yon  taught  the  Duchess 
of  Guise  to  dance  the  triolets  :  and  I  am  afraid  your 
aflfairs  arc  not  in  so  flourishing  a  condition  as  they  were 
the  campaign  after  I  had  given  you  the  company  you 
mention."  They  were  talking  in  this  manner,  when 
the  Duke  d' Arscot,  followed  by  the  gentlemen  above 
mentioned,  came  up  on  full  gallop.  The  Chevalier  de 
Grammont  was  saluted  by  the  whole  company  before  he 
could  say  a  word.  Soon  after  arrived  an  immense  num- 
ber of  others  of  his  acquaintance,  with  many  people,  out 
of  curiosity,  on  both  sides,  who,  seeing  him  upon  the 
eminence,  assembled  together  with  the  greatest  eager- 
ness ;  so  that  the  two  armies,  without  design,  without 
truce,  and  without  fraud,  were  going  to  join  in  conver- 
sation, if,  l)y  chance.  Monsieur  de  Turenne  had  not  per- 
ceived it  at  a  distance.  The  sight  surprised  him  :  he 
hastened  that  way  ;  and  the  Marquis  d'Humieres  ac- 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


95 


quainted  him  with  the  arrival  of  the  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
motit,  who  wished  to  speak  to  the  sentry  before  he  went 
to  the  head-quarters  :  he  added,  that  he  could  not  com- 
prehend how  the  devil  he  had  managed  to  assemble  both 
armies  around  him,  for  it  was  hardly  a  minute  since  he 
had  left  him.  "Truly,"  said  IMonsieur  de  Turenne, 
"he  is  a  very  extraordinary  man  ;  but  it  is  only  reason- 
able that  he  should  let  us  now  have  a  little  of  his  com- 
pany, since  he  has  paid  his  first  visit  to  the  enemy." 
At  these  words  he  despatched  an  aide-de-camp,  to  recall 
the  officers  of  his  army,  and  to  acquaint  the  Chevalier 
de  Grammont  with  his  impatience  to  see  him. 

This  order  arrived  at  the  same  time,  with  one  of  the 
same  nature,  to  the  enemy's  officers.  The  Prince  de 
Conde,  being  informed  of  this  peaceable  interview,  was 
not  the  least  surprised  at  it,  when  he  heard  that  it  was 
occasioned  by  the  arrival  of  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont. 
He  only  gave  Lussan  orders  to  recall  the  officers,  and  to 
desire  the  Chevalier  to  meet  him  at  the  same  place  the 
next  day  ;  which  the  Chevalier  promised  to  do,  provided 
IMonsieur  de  Turenne  should  approve  of  it,  as  he  made 
no  doubt  he  would. 

His  reception  in  the  king's  army  was  equally  agree- 
able as  that  which  he  had  experienced  from  the  enemy. 
IMonsieur  de  Turenne  esteemed  him  no  less  for  his  frank- 
ness than  for  the  poignancy  of  his  wit  :  he  took  it  very 
kindly  that  he  was  the  only  courtier  who  came  to  see 
him  in  a  time  so  critical  as  the  present :  the  questions 
which  he  asked  him  about  the  court  were  not  so  much 
for  information,  as  to  divert  himself  with  his  manner  of 
relating  their  different  apprehensions  and  alarms.  The 
Chevalier  de  Grammont  advised  him  to  beat  the  enemy, 
if  he  did  not  choose  to  be  answerable  for  an  enterprise 
which  he  had  undertaken  without  consulting  the  Car- 
dinal. jNIonsieur  de  Turenne  promised  him  he  woiild 
exert  himself  to  the  utmost  to  follow  his  advice,  and 
assured  him,  that  if  he  succeeded,  he  would  make  the 


96 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


queen  keep  her  word  with  him  ;  and  conchided  with 
saying,  that  he  was  not  sorry  the  Prince  de  Coude  had 
expressed  a  desire  to  see  him.  His  measures  were  taken 
for  an  attack  upon  the  lines  :  on  this  subject  he  dis- 
coursed in  private  with  the  Chevalier  de  Granimont,  and 
concealed  nothing  from  him  except  the  time  of  execu- 
tion :  but  this  was  all  to  no  purpose  ;  for  the  Chevalier 
had  seen  too  nnich,  not  to  judge,  from  his  own  knowl- 
edge, and  the  observations  he  had  made,  that  from  the 
situation  of  the  army,  the  attack  could  be  no  longer  de- 
ferred. 

He  set  out  the  next  day  for  his  rendezvous,  attended 
by  a  trumpet,  and  found  the  Prince  at  the  place  which 
Monsieur  de  Lussan  had  described  to  him  the  evening 
before.  As  .soon  as  he  alighted  :  "Is  it  po.ssible,"  said 
the  Prince,  embracing  him,  "that  this  can  be  the  Cheva- 
lier de  Grammont,  and  that  I  should  see  him  in  the 
contrary  party?"  "It  is  you,  my  lord,  whom  I  .see 
there,"  replied  the  Chevalier,  "and  I  refer  it  to  your- 
self, whether  it  was  the  fault  of  the  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
mont, or  your  own,  that  we  now  embrace  different  inter- 
ests." "  I  must  confess,"  said  the  Prince,  "  that  if  there 
are  some  who  have  abandoned  me  like  ba.se,  ungrateful 
wretches,  3'ou  have  left  me,  as  I  left  my.self,  like  a  man 
of  honor,  who  thinks  him.self  in  the  right  :  hut  let  us 
forget  all  cause  of  resentment,  and  tell  nie  what  was 
your  motive  for  coming  here,  yo\i,  whom  I  thought  at 
Peronne  with  the  court?"  "Must  I  tell  you?"  .said 
he:  "why,  faith  then,  I  came  to  .save  your  life.  I 
knew  that  you  cannot  help  being  in  the  midst  of  the 
enemy  in  a  day  of  battle  ;  it  is  only  necessary  for  your 
horse  to  be  shot  under  you,  and  to  be  taken  in  arms,  to 
meet  with  the  same  treatment  from  this  Cardinal  as  your 
uncle  Montmorency  *  did  from  the  other.     I  come, 

*ITenn,',  Duke  of  ^loiitmoreiicy,  who  was  taken  prisoner  first  Sep- 
tember, 1692,  and  had  his  bead  struck  ofT  at  Toulouse  iu  the  mouth  of 
November  following. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


97 


therefore,  to  hold  a  horse  in  readiness  for  you  in  case  of 
a  similar  misfortune,  that  you  may  not  lose  your  head." 
"It  is  not  the  first  time,"  said  the  Prince,  smiling, 
"that  you  have  rendered  me  this  service,  though  the 
being  taken  prisoner  at  that  time  could  not  have  been 
so  dangerous  to  me  as  now." 

From  this  conversation  they  passed  to  more  entertain- 
ing subjects.  The  Prince  asked  him  many  questions 
concerning  the  court,  the  ladies,  play,  and  about  his 
amours  ;  and  returning  insensibly  to  the  present  situa- 
tion of  affairs,  the  Chevalier  having  inquired  after  some 
officers  of  his  acquaintance,  who  had  remained  with  him, 
the  Prince  told  him  that  if  he  chose  he  might  go  to  the 
lines,  where  he  would  have  an  opportunity  not  only  of 
seeing  those  whom  he  inquired  after,  but  likewise  the 
disposition  of  the  quarters  and  entrenchments.  To  this 
he  consented,  and  the  Prince  having  shown  him  all  the 
works  and  attended  him  back  to  their  rendezvous, 
"Well,  Chevalier,"  said  he,  "when  do  you  think  we 
shall  see  you  again  ?  "  "  Faith,"  replied  he,  "  you  have 
used  me  so  handsomely,  that  I  shall  conceal  nothing 
from  you.  Hold  yourself  in  readiness  an  hour  before 
daybreak  ;  for,  you  may  depend  upon  it,  we  shall  attack 
you  to-morrow  morning.  I  would  not  have  acquainted 
you  with  this,  perhaps,  had  I  been  entrusted  with  the 
secret,  but,  nevertheless,  in  the  present  case  5'ou  may 
believe  me."  "You  are  still  the  same  man,"  said  the 
Prince,  again  embracing  him.  The  Chevalier  returned 
to  Monsieur  de  Turenne's  camp  towards  night  ;  every 
preparation  was  then  making  for  the  attack  of  the  lines, 
and  it  was  no  longer  a  secret  among  the  troops. 

"Well,  Monsieur  le  Chevalier,  were  they  all  very  glad 
to  see  you  ?  ' '  said  Monsieur  de  Turenne  ;  ' '  the  Prince, 
no  doubt,  received  you  with  the  greatest  kindness,  and 
asked  a  great  number  of  questions  ?  "  "  He  has  shown 
me  all  the  civility  imaginable,"  replied  the  Chevalier  ; 
"and,  to  convince  me  he  did  not  take  me  for  a  spy,  he 
7 


98 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


led  me  round  the  lines  and  entrenchments,  and  showed 
me  the  preparations  he  had  made  for  your  reception." 
"And  what  is  his  opinion?  "  said  the  Marshal.  "  He  is 
persuaded  that  >  ou  will  attack  him  to-night,  or  to-mor- 
row by  daybreak  ;  for  you  great  captains,"  continued 
the  Chevalier,  "see  through  each  other's  designs  in  a 
wonderful  manner." 

Monsieur  de  Turenne,  with  pleasure,  received  this 
commendation  from  a  man  who  was  not  indiscriminately 
accustomed  to  bestow  praise.  He  communicated  to  him 
the  disposition  of  the  attack  ;  and  at  the  same  time 
acquainted  him  that  he  was  very  happy  that  a  man  who 
had  seen  so  many  actions  was  to  be  present  at  this  ;  and 
that  he  esteemed  it  no  small  advantage  to  have  the  ben- 
efit of  his  advice,  but  as  he  believed  that  the  remaining 
part  of  the  night  woidd  be  hardly  sufficient  for  his  re- 
pose, after  having  passed  the  former  without  any  refresh- 
ment, he  consigned  him  to  the  Marquis  d'Huniieres, 
who  provided  him  with  a  supper  and  a  lodging. 

The  next  dav  the  lines  of  Arras  were  attacked,  wherein 
Monsieur  de  Turenne,  being  victorious,  added  additional 
lustre  to  his  former  glory  ;  and  the  Prince  de  Conde, 
though  vanquished,  lost  nothing  of  his  former  reputa- 
tion. 

There  are  so  many  accounts  of  this  celebrated  battle, 
that  to  mention  it  here  would  be  altogether  superfluous. 
The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  who,  as  a  volunteer,  was 
permitted  to  go  into  every  part,  has  given  a  better  de- 
scription of  it  than  any  other  person.  Monsieur  de 
Turenne  reaped  great  advantage  from  that  activity-  which 
never  forsook  the  Chevalier  either  in  peace  or  war  ;  and 
that  presence  of  mind  which  enabled  him  to  carry 
orders,  as  coming  from  the  general,  so  very  apropos, 
that  Monsieur  de  Turenne,  otherwise  very  particular 
in  such  matters,  thanked  him,  when  the  battle  was 
over,  in  the  presence  of  all  his  officers,  and  despatched 
him  to  court  with  the  first  news  of  his  success. 


MEMOIRvS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


99 


All  that  is  generally  necessary  in  these  expeditions  is 
to  be  accustomed  to  hard  riding,  and  to  be  well  provided 
with  fresh  horses,  but  he  had  a  great  many  other  ob- 
stacles to  surmount.  In  the  first  place,  the  parties  of  the 
enemy  were  dispersed  over  all  the  country,  and  ob- 
structed his  passage.  Then  he  had  to  prepare  against 
greedy  and  officious  courtiers,  who,  on  such  occasions, 
post  themselves  in  all  the  avenues,  in  order  to  cheat 
the  poor  courier  out  of  his  news.  However,  his  ad- 
dress preserved  him  from  the  one,  and  deceived  the 
others. 

He  had  taken  eight  or  ten  troopers,  commanded  by 
an  officer  of  his  acquaintance,  to  escort  him  half  way  to 
Bapaume,  *  being  persuaded  that  the  greatest  danger 
would  lie  between  the  camp  and  the  first  stage.  He  had 
not  proceeded  a  league  before  he  was  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  what  he  suspected,  and  turning  to  the  officer, 
who  followed  him  closely,  ' '  If  3'ou  are  not  well  mounted, " 
said  he,  "I  would  advise  you  to  return  to  the  camp  ;  for 
my  part,  I  shall  set  spurs  to  my  horse,  and  make  the 
best  of  my  way."  "Sir,"  said  the  officer,  "I  hope  I 
shall  be  able  to  keep  you  company,  at  whatever  rate  )-ou 
go,  until  you  are  out  of  all  danger."  "I  doubt  that," 
replied  the  Chevalier,  "for  those  gentlemen  there  seem 
prepared  to  pay  us  a  visit."  "  Don't  you  see,"  said  the 
officer,  "  they  are  some  of  our  own  people  who  are  graz- 
ing their  horses  ?  "  "No,"  said  the  Chevalier  ;  "but  I 
see  very  well  that  they  are  some  of  the  enemy's  troop- 
ers." Upon  which,  observing  to  him  that  they  were 
mounting,  he  ordered  the  horsemen  that  escorted  him  to 
prepare  themselves  to  make  a  diversion,  and  he  himself 
set  off  full  speed  towards  Bapaume. 

He  was  mounted  upon  a  very  swift  English  horse  ; 

*  A  fortified  town  in  Artois,  seated  in  a  barren  country,  without  rivers 
or  springs,  and  having  an  old  palace,  which  gave  rise  to  the  town,  with 
a  particular  governor  of  its  own,  a  royal  and  forest  court.  In  1641  the 
French  took  il  from  the  Spaniards. 


100 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


but  having  entangled  himself  in  a  hollow  way  where  the 
ground  was  deep  and  miry,  he  soon  had  the  troopers  at 
his  heels,  who,  stipposing  him  to  be  some  officer  of  rank, 
would  not  be  deceived,  but  continiied  to  pursue  him, 
without  paying  any  attention  to  the  others.  The  best 
mounted  of  the  party  began  to  draw  near  him  ;  for  the 
English  horses,  swift  as  the  wind  on  even  ground,  pro- 
ceeded but  very  indifferently  in  bad  roads  ;  the  trooper 
presented  his  carbine,  and  cried  out  to  him,  at  some 
distance,  "Good  quarter."  The  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
mont,  who  perceived  that  they  gained  upon  him,  and 
that  whatever  efforts  his  horse  made  in  such  heavy 
groiuid,  he  miist  be  overtaken  at  last,  immediately 
quitted  the  road  to  Bapaume,  and  took  a  causeway  to  the 
left,  which  led  quite  a  different  way  ;  as  soon  as  he  had 
gained  it,  he  drew  up,  as  if  to  hear  the  proposal  of  the 
trooper,  which  afforded  his  horse  an  opportunity  of 
recovering  himself ;  while  his  enemy,  mistaking  his 
intention,  and  thinking  that  he  only  waited  to  surrender, 
immediately  exerted  every  effort,  that  he  might  take 
him  before  the  rest  of  his  companions,  who  were  follow- 
ing, could  arrive,  and  by  this  means  almost  killed  his 
horse. 

One  minute's  reflection  made  the  Chevalier  consider 
what  a  disagreeable  adventure  it  would  be,  thus  coming 
from  so  glorious  a  victory,  aud  the  dangers  of  a  battle  so 
warmly  disputed,  to  be  taken  by  a  set  of  scoundrels  who 
had  not  been  in  it,  and,  instead  of  being  received  in  tri- 
umph, and  embraced  by  a  great  queen  for  the  important 
news  with  which  he  was  charged,  to  see  himself  stripped 
by  the  vanquished. 

During  this  short  meditation,  the  trooper  who  followed 
him  was  arrived  within  shot,  and  still  presenting  his 
carbine,  offered  him  good  quarter,  but  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramniont,  to  whom  this  offer,  and  the  manner  in  which 
it  was  made,  were  equally  displeasing,  made  a  sign  to 
him  to  lower  his  piece  ;  and  perceiving  his  horse  to  be 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


101 


in  wind,  he  lowered  his  hand,  rode  off  like  lightning,  and 
left  the  trooper  in  such  astonishment  that  he  even  forgot 
to  fire  at  him. 

As  soon  as  he  arrived  at  Bapaiime  he  changed  horses  ; 
the  commander  of  this  place  showed  him  the  greatest 
respect,  assuring  liim  that  no  person  had  yet  passed  ; 
that  he  would  keep  the  secret,  and  that  he  would  retain 
all  that  followed  him,  except  the  couriers  of  Monsieur 
de  Turenne. 

He  now  had  only  to  guard  against  those  who  would  be 
watching  for  him  about  the  environs  of  Peronne,  to  re- 
turn as  soon  as  the}-  saw  him,  and  carry  his  news  to 
court,  without  being  acquainted  with  any  of  the  partic- 
ulars. He  knew  very  well  that  Marshal  du  Plessis, 
Marshal  de  \'illeroy,  and  Gaboury,  had  boasted  of  this 
to  the  Cardinal  before  his  departure.  Wherefore,  to 
elude  this  snare,  he  hired  two  well-mounted  horsemen 
at  Bapaume,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  got  a  league  from 
that  place,  and  after  giving  them  each  two  louis  d'ors, 
to  secure  their  fidelity,  he  ordered  them  to  ride  on  before, 
to  appear  very  much  terrified,  and  to  tell  all  those  who 
should  ask  them  any  questions,  "  that  all  was  lost,  that 
the  Chevalier  de  Grammout  had  stopped  at  Bapaume, 
having  no  great  inclination  to  be  the  messenger  of  ill 
news  ;  and  that  as  for  themselves,  they  had  been  pursued 
by  the  enemy's  troopers,  who  were  spread  over  the  whole 
country  since  the  defeat." 

Everything  succeeded  to  his  wish  :  the  horsemen  were 
intercepted  by  Gabour)-,  whose  eagerness  had  outstripped 
the  two  marshals  ;  but  whatever  questions  were  asked 
them,  they  acted  their  parts  so  well,  that  Peronne  was 
already  in  consternation,  and  rumors  of  the  defeat  were 
whispered  among  the  courtiers,  when  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammout  arrived. 

Nothing  so  enhances  the  value  of  good  news  as  when 
a  false  alarm  of  bad  has  preceded  ;  yet,  though  the 
Chevalier's  was  accompanied  with  this  advantage,  none 


102 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


but  their  Majesties  received  it  with  that  transport  of  joy 
it  deserved. 

The  queen  kept  her  promise  to  him  in  the  most  fasci- 
nating manner  :  she  embraced  him  before  the  whole 
court  ;  the  king  appeared  no  less  delighted  ;  but  the 
Cardinal,  whether  with  the  view  of  lessening  the  merit 
of  an  action  which  deserved  a  handsome  reward,  or 
whether  it  was  from  a  return  of  that  insolence  which 
always  accompanied  him  in  prosperity,  appeared  at  first 
not  to  pay  any  attention  to  what  he  said,  and  being  after- 
wards informed  that  the  lines  had  been  forced,  that  the 
Spanish  army  was  beaten,  and  that  Arras  was  relieved  : 
"  Is  the  Prince  de  Conde  taken?"  said  he.  "  No,"  re- 
plied the  Chevalier  de  Grammont.  "He  is  dead,  then, 
I  suppose?"  said  the  Cardinal.  "Not  so,  neither," 
answered  the  Chevalier.  "Fine  news  indeed  !"  said  the 
Cardinal,  with  an  air  of  contempt  ;  and  at  these  words 
he  went  into  the  queen's  cabinet  with  their  majesties. 
And  happy  it  was  for  the  Chevalier  that  he  did  so,  for 
without  doubt  he  would  have  given  him  some  severe 
reply,  *  in  resentment  for  those  two  fine  questions,  and 
the  conclusion  he  had  drawn  from  them. 

The  court  was  filled  with  the  Cardinal's  spies  :  the 
Chevalier,  as  is  usual  on  such  an  occasion,  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  crowd  of  courtiers  and  inquisitive  people, 
and  he  was  very  glad  to  ease  himself  of  some  part  of  the 
load  which  laid  heavy  on  his  heart,  within  the  hearing 
of  the  Cardinal's  creatures,  and  which  he  would  perhaps 
have  told  him  to  his  face.  "Faith,  gentlemen,"  said 
he,  with  a  sneer,  "there  is  nothing  like  being  zealous 


*This  spirit  seems  not  always  to  have  attended  him  iu  his  transac- 
tions v,iih  the  Cardinal.  On  the  occasion  of  the  entrj-  of  the  king  in 
1660,  "  Le  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  Rouville,  Bellefonds,  and  some 
other  courtiers,  attended  in  the  Cardinal's  suite,  a  degree  of  flatterj- 
which  astonished  everybody  who  ktiew  him.  I  was  informed  that  the 
Chevalier  wore  a  very  rich  orange-colored  dress  ou  that  occasion." 
Lettres  de  Maintenon,  tome  i.,  p.  32. 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


103 


and  eager  in  the  service  of  kings  and  great  princes  :  you 
have  seen  what  a  gracious  reception  his  Majesty  has 
given  me  ;  you  are  likewise  witnesses  in  what  an  oblig- 
ing manner  the  queen  kept  her  promise  with  me  ;  but 
as  for  the  Cardinal,  he  has  received  my  news  as  if  he 
gained  no  more  by  it  than  he  did  by  the  death  of  Peter 
Mazarin."  * 

This  was  sufficient  to  terrify  all  those  who  were  sin- 
cerely attached  to  him  ;  and  the  best  established  fortune 
would  have  been  ruined  at  some  period  by  a  jest  much 
less  severe  :  for  it  was  delivered  in  the  presence  of  wit- 
nesses, who  were  only  desirous  of  having  an  opportunity 
of  representing  it  in  its  utmost  malignancy,  to  make  a 
merit  of  their  vigilance  with  a  powerful  and  absolute 
minister.  Of  this  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  was 
thoroughly  convinced  ;  yet  whatever  detriment  he  fore- 
saw might  arise  from  it,  he  could  not  help  being  much 
pleased  with  what  he  had  said. 

The  spies  very  faithfully  discharged  their  duty  :  how- 
ever, the  affair  took  a  very  different  turn  from  what  they 
expected.  The  next  day,  when  the  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
mont was  present  while  their  Majesties  were  at  dinner, 
the  Cardinal  came  in,  and  coming  up  to  him,  everybody 
making  way  for  him  out  of  respect  :  "Chevalier,"  said 
he,  "the  news  which  you  have  brought  is  very  good, 
their  Majesties  are  very  well  satisfied  with  it ;  and  to 
convince  you  it  is  more  advantageous  to  me  than  the 
death  of  Peter  Mazarin,  if  you  will  come  and  dine  with 
me  we  will  have  some  play  together  ;  for  the  queen  will 
give  us  something  to  play  for,  over  and  above  her  first 
promise." 

In  this  manner  did  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  dare 
to  provoke  a  powerful  minister,  and  this  was  all  the  re- 


*  Peter  Mazarin  was  father  to  the  Cardinal.  He  was  a  native  of 
Palermo  in  Sicily,  which  place  he  left  in  order  to  settle  at  Rome,  where 
he  died  in  the  year  1654. 


104 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT, 


seutment  which  the  least  vindictive  of  all  statesmen 
expressed  on  the  occasion.  It  was  indeed  very  unusual 
for  so  young  a  man  to  reverence  the  authority  of  minis- 
ters no  farther  than  as  they  were  themselves  respectable 
by  their  merit  ;  for  this,  his  own  breast,  as  well  as  the 
whole  court,  applauded  him,  and  he  enjoyed  the  satisfac- 
tion of  being  the  only  man  who  durst  preserve  the  least 
shadow  of  libert}-  in  a  general  state  of  servitude  ;  but  it 
was  perhaps  owing  to  the  Cardinal's  passing  over  this 
insult  with  impunity,  that  he  afterwards  drew  iipon  him- 
self some  difficulties,  by  other  rash  expressions  less  for- 
tunate in  the  event. 

In  the  meantime  the  court  returned  :  the  Cardinal, 
who  was  sensible  that  he  could  no  longer  keep  his  mas- 
ter in  a  state  of  tutelage,  being  himself  worn  out  with 
cares  and  sickness,  and  having  amassed  treasures  he 
knew  not  what  to  do  with,  and  being  sufficiently  loaded 
with  the  weight  of  public  odium,  he  turned  all  his 
thoughts  towards  terminating,  in  a  manner  the  most 
advantageous  for  France,  a  ministry  which  had  so  cru- 
ell}'  shaken  that  kingdom.  Thus,  while  he  was 
earnestly  laying  the  foundations  of  a  peace  so  ardently 
wished  for,  pleasure  and  plenty  began  to  reign  at  court. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramniont  experienced  for  a  long 
time  a  variety  of  fortune  in  love  and  gaming  :  he  was  es- 
teemed by  the  courtiers,  beloved  hy  beauties  whom  he 
neglected,  and  a  dangerous  favorite  of  those  whom  he 
admired;  more  successful  in  play  than  in  his  amours;  but 
the  one  indemnifying  him  for  want  of  success  in  the 
other,  he  was  always  full  of  life  and  spirits;  and  in  all 
transactions  of  importance,  always  a  man  of  honor. 

It  is  a  pity  that  we  must  be  forced  here  to  interrupt  the 
course  of  his  history,  by  an  interval  of  some  years,  as  has 
been  already  done  at  the  commencement  of  these  me- 
moirs. In  a  life  where  the  most  minute  circumstances 
are  always  singular  and  diverting,  we  can  meet  with  no 
chasm  which  does  not  afford  regret;  but  whether  he  did 


MEMOIR.S  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


105 


not  think  them  worthy  of  holding  a  place  among  his 
other  adventnres,  or  that  he  has  only  preserved  a  con- 
fused idea  of  them,  we  must  pass  to  the  parts  of 
these  fragments  which  are  better  ascertained,  that  we 
may  arrive  at  the  subject  of  his  journey  to  England. 

The  peace  of  the  Pyrenees,*  the  king's  marriage, t  the 
return  of  the  Prince  de  Conde,J  and  the  death  of  the  Car- 
dinal, gave  a  new  face  to  the  state.  The  eyes  of  the 
whole  nation  were  fixed  tipon  Louis  XIV.,  who,  for 
nobleness  of  mien,  and  gracefulness  of  person,  had  no 
equal;  but  it  was  not  then  known  that  he  was  possessed 
of  those  superior  abilities,  which,  filling  his  subjects 
with  admiration,  in  the  end  made  him  so  formidable  to 
Europe.  Love  and  ambition,  the  invisible  springs  of  the 
intrigues  and  cabals  of  all  courts,  attentively  observed 
his  first  steps  :  pleasure  promised  herself  an  absolute  em- 
pire over  a  prince  who  had  been  kept  in  ignorance  of  the 
necessary  rules  of  government,  and  ambition  had  no 
hopes  of  reigning  in  the  court  except  in  the  minds  of 
those  who  were  able  to  dispute  the  management  of  affairs; 
when  men  were  surprised  to  see  the  king  on  a  sudden 
display  such  brilliant  abilities,  which  prudence,  in  some 
measure  necessar)-,  had  so  long  obliged  him  to  conceal. 

An  application,  inimical  to  the  pleasures  which  gener- 
erally  attract  that  age,  and  which  unlimited  power  very 
seldom  refuses,  attached  him  solely  to  the  cares  of  gov- 
ernment: all  admired  this  wonderful  change,  but  all  did 
not  find  their  account  in  it:  the  great  lost  their  conse- 
quence before  an  absolute  master,  and  the  courtiers  ap- 
proached with  reverential  awe  the  sole  object  of  their 
respects  and  the  sole  master  of  their  fortunes:  those  who 


*  This  treaty  was  concluded  yth  November,  1659. 

t  Louis  XIV.  with  Maria  Theresa  of  Austria.  She  was  horn  20th 
September,  1638,  married  ist  June,  1660,  and  entered  Paris  26th  August 
following.  She  died  at  Versailles,  30th  July,  16S3,  and  was  buried  at 
St.  Denis. 

t  iitb  April. — See  De  Retz's  Memoirs,  vol.  iii.,  p.  119. 


106 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


had  coiicUicted  themselves  like  petty  tyrants  in  the  prov- 
inces, and  on  the  frontiers,  were  now  no  more  than  gov- 
ernors :  favors,  according  to  the  king's  pleasure,  were 
sometimes  conferred  on  merit,  and  sometimes  for  services 
done  the  state;  but  to  importune,  or  to  menace  the  court, 
was  no  longer  the  method  to  obtain  them. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  regarded  his  master's  at- 
tention to  the  affairs  of  state  as  a  prodigy:  he  could  not 
conceive  how  he  could  submit  at  his  age  to  the  rules  he 
prescribed  himself,  or  that  he  should  give  up  so  many 
hours  of  pleasure,  to  devote  them  to  the  tiresome  duties 
and  laborious  functions  of  government  ;  but  he  blessed 
the  Lord  that  henceforward  no  more  homage  was  to  be 
paid,  no  more  court  to  be  made,  but  to  him  alone,  to 
whom  they  were  justly  due.  Disdaining  as  he  did  the 
servile  adoration  usually  paid  to  a  minister,  he  could 
never  crouch  before  the  power  of  the  two  Cardinals  who 
succeeded  each  other:  he  neither  worshipped  the  arbitrary 
power  of  the  one,  nor  gave  his  approbation  to  the  artifices 
of  the  other  ;  he  had  never  received  anything  from  Car- 
dinal Richelieu  but  an  abbey,  which,  on  account  of  his 
rank,  could  not  be  refused  him  ;  and  he  never  acquired 
anything  from  Mazarin  but  what  he  won  of  him  at  play. 

By  many  years  experience  under  an  able  general  he 
had  acquired  a  talent  for  war;  but  this  during  a  general 
peace  was  of  no  further  service  to  him.  He  therefore 
thought  that,  in  the  midst  of  a  court  flourishing  in 
beauties  and  abomiding  in  wealth,  he  could  not  employ 
himself  better  than  in  endeavoring  to  gain  the  good  opin- 
ion of  his  master,  in  making  the  best  x:se  of  those  advan- 
tages which  nature  had  given  him  for  play,  and  in 
putting  in  practice  new  stratagems  in  love. 

He  succeeded  ver}'  well  in  the  first  two  of  these  proj- 
ects, and  as  he  had  from  that  time  laid  it  down  as  the 
rule  of  his  conduct  to  attach  himself  solely  to  the  king  in 
all  his  views  of  preferment,  to  have  no  regard  for  favor 
unless  when  it  was  supiwrted  by  merit,  to  make  himself 


MK.MOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


107 


beloved  by  the  courtiers  and  feared  by  the  minister,  to 
dare  to  undertake  anything  in  order  to  do  good,  and  to 
engage  in  nothing  at  the  expense  of  innocence,  he  soon 
became  one  in  all  the  king's  parties  of  pleasure,  without 
gaining  the  ill  will  of  the  courtiers.  In  play  he  was  suc- 
cessful, in  love  unfortunate;  or,  to  speak  more  properly, 
his  restlessness  and  jealousy  overcame  his  natural  pru- 
dence, in  a  situation  wherein  he  had  most  occasion  for 
it.  La  Motte  Agencoiirt  was  one  of  the  maids  of  honor 
to  the  queen  dowager,  and,  though  no  sparkling  beauty, 
she  had  drawn  away  lovers  from  the  celebrated  INIene- 
ville.  *  It  was  sufficient  in  those  days  for  the  king  to 
cast  his  eye  upon  a  young  lady  of  the  court  to  inspire  her 
with  hopes,  and  often  with  tender  sentiments;  but  if  he 
spoke  to  her  more  than  once,  the  courtiers  took  it  for 
granted,  and  those  who  had  either  pretensions  to,  or  love 
for  her,  respectfully  withdrew  both  the  one  and  the  other, 
and  afterwards  only  paid  her  respect ;  but  the  Chevalier 
de  Grammont  thought  fit  to  act  quite  otherwise,  perhaps 
to  preserve  a  singularity  of  character,  which  upon  the 
present  occasion  was  of  no  avail. 

He  had  never  before  thought  of  her,  but  as  soon  as  he 
found  that  she  was  honored  with  the  king's  attention, 
he  was  of  opinion  that  she  was  likewise  deserving  of  his. 


*  These  two  ladies  at  this  period  seem  to  have  made  a  distiiifjuislied 
figure  in  the  annals  of  gallantry.  One  of  their  contemporaries  mentions 
them  in  these  terms  :  "In  this  case,  perhaps,  I  can  give  a  better  account 
than  most  people  ;  as,  for  instance,  they  had  raised  a  report,  when  the 
queen-mother  expelled  Mademoiselle  de  la  Motte  Agencourt,  that  it 
was  on  his  score,  when  I  am  assured,  upon  very  good  grounds,  that  it 
was  for  entertaining  the  Marquis  de  Richelieu  against  her  majesty's 
express  command.  This  lady,  who  was  one  of  her  maids  of  honor,  was 
a  person  whom  I  was  particularly  acquainted  with  ;  and  that  so  nuicli, 
as  I  was  supposed  to  have  a  passion  for  her  :  she  was  counted  one  of 
the  finest  women  of  the  court,  and  therefore  I  was  not  at  all  displeased 
to  have  it  thought  so  ;  for  except  Mademoiselle  de  Meneville,  (who  had 
her  admirers,)  there  was  none  that  could  pretend  to  dispute  it." 
Memoirs  of  the  Comte  de  Rochcfort,  1696,  p.  210.  See  also  Auquetil, 
Louis  XVI.  sa  Cour  et  le  Regent,  tome  i.,  p.  46. 


108 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Having  attached  himself  to  her,  he  soon  became  very 
tronblesome,  without  con\-incing  her  he  was  much  in 
love.  She  grew  weary  of  his  persecutions,  but  he 
would  not  desist,  neither  on  account  of  her  ill-treat- 
ment nor  of  her  threats.  This  conduct  of  liis  at  first 
made  no  great  noise,  because  she  was  in  hopes  that  he 
would  change  his  behavior;  but  finding  him  rashly  per- 
sist in  it,  she  complained  of  him  :  and  then  it  was  that 
he  perceived  that  if  love  renders  all  conditions  equal,  it 
is  not  so  between  rivals.  He  was  banished  the  court, 
and  not  finding  any  place  in  France  which  could  console 
him  for  what  he  most  regretted — the  presence  and  sight 
of  his  prince — after  having  made  some  slight  reflections 
upon  his  disgrace,  and  bestowed  a  few  imprecations 
against  her  who  was  the  cause  of  it,  he  at  last  formed  the 
resolution  of  visiting  England. 


MRS.  HVDB. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Curiosity  to  see  a  man  equally  famous  for  his  crimes 
and  his  elevation,  had  once  before  induced  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramniout  to  visit  England.  Reasons  of  state  assume 
great  privileges.  Whatever  appears  advantageous  is  law- 
ful, and  everything  that  is  necessary  is  honorable  in  pol- 
itics. While  the  King  of  England  sought  the  protection 
of  Spain  in  the  Low  Countries,  and  that  of  the  States- 
General  in  Holland,  other  powers  sent  splendid  embassies 
to  Cromwell. 

This  man,  whose  ambition  had  opened  him  a  way  to 
sovereign  power  by  the  greatest  crimes,  maintained  him- 
self in  it  by  accomplishments  which  .seemed  to  render 
him  worthy  of  it  by  their  lustre.  The  nation,  of  all 
Europe  the  least  submissive,  patiently  bore  a  yoke 
which  did  not  even  leave  her  the  shadow  of  that  liberty 
of  which  .she  is  .so  jealous  ;  and  Cromwell,  master  of  the 
Commonwealth,  under  the  title  of  Protector,  feared  at 
home,  but  yet  more  dreaded  abroad,  was  at  his  highest 
pitch  of  glory  when  he  was  seen  by  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammont;  but  the  Chevalier  did  not  see  any  appearance 
of  a  court.  One  part  of  the  nobility  proscribed,  the 
other  removed  from  employments;  an  affectation  of  purity 
of  manners,  instead  of  the  lu.xury  which  tlie  pomp  of 

(109) 


110 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


courts  displays,  all  taken  together,  presented  nothing 
but  sad  and  serious  objects  in  the  finest  city  in  the  world; 
and  therefore  the  Chevalier  acquired  nothing  by  this 
voyage  but  the  idea  of  some  merit  in  a  profligate  man, 
and  the  admiration  of  some  concealed  beauties  he  had 
found  means  to  discover. 

Affairs  wore  quite  a  different  appearance  at  his  second 
voyage.  The  joy  for  the  restoration  of  the  royal  family 
still  appeared  in  all  parts.  The  nation,  fond  of  change 
and  novelty,  tasted  the  pleasure  of  a  natural  government, 
and  seemed  to  breathe  again  after  a  long  oppression.  In 
short,  the  same  people  who,  by  a  solemn  abjuration,  had 
excluded  even  the  posterity  of  their  lawful  sovereign, 
exhausted  themselves  in  festivals  and  rejoicings  for  his 
return.  * 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  arrived  about  two  years 
after  the  restoration.  The  reception  he  met  with  in  this 
court  soon  made  him  forget  the  other  ;  and  the  engage- 
ments he  in  the  end  contracted  in  England  lessened  the 
regret  he  had  in  leaving  France. 

This  was  a  desirable  retreat  for  an  exile  of  his  dispo- 
sition. Everything  flattered  his  taste,  and  if  the  adven- 
tures he  had  in  this  country  were  not  the  most  consider- 


*  Bishop  Burnet  confirms  this  account.  "  With  the  restoration  of  the 
king,"  says  he,  "a  spirit  of  extravagant  joy  spread  over  the  nation, 
that  brought  on  with  it  the  throwing  off  the  very  professions  of  virtue 
and  piety.  All  ended  in  entertainments  and  drunkenness  which  over- 
run the  three  kingdoms  to  such  a  degree,  that  it  very  much  corrupted 
all  their  morals.  Under  the  color  of  drinking  the  king's  health,  there 
were  great  disorders,  and  nuich  riot  cverj  wherc  :  and  the  pretences  of 
religion,  both  in  those  of  the  hypocritical  sort,  atid  of  the  more  hone.st, 
but  no  less  pernicious  enthusiasts,  gave  great  advantages,  as  well  as  they 
furnislied  much  matter  to  the  profane  mockers  of  true  piet)'." — History 
of  his  Oivn  Times,  vol.  i.,  p.  127,  Svo.  edit.  Voltaire  says,  King 
Charles  "was  received  at  Dover  by  twenty  thousand  of  his  subjects, 
who  fell  upon  their  knees  before  him ;  and  I  have  been  told  by 
some  old  men  who  were  of  this  number,  that  hardly  any  of  those 
who  were  present  could  refrain  from  tears."  Age  of  Louis  XIV., 
chap.  5. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


Ill 


able,  they  were  at  least  the  most  agreeable  of  his  life. 
But  before  we  relate  them  it  will  not  be  improper  to 
give  some  account  of  the  English  court  as  it  was  at  that 
period. 

The  necessity  of  affairs  had  exposed  Charles  II.  from 
his  earliest  youth  to  the  toils  and  perils  of  a  bloody 
war.  The  fate  of  the  king,  his  father,  had  left  him  for 
inheritance  nothing  but  his  misfortunes  and  disgraces. 
They  overtook  him  everywhere  ;  but  it  was  not  until 
he  had  struggled  with  his  ill-fortune  to  the  last  ex- 
treniit)-  that  he  submitted  to  the  decrees  of  Providence. 

All  those  who  were  either  great  on  account  of  their 
birth  or  their  loyalty  had  followed  him  into  exile  ;  and 
all  the  young  persons  of  the  greatest  distinction  having 
afterwards  joined  him,  composed  a  court  worthy  of  a 
better  fate. 

Plenty  and  prosperity,  which  are  thought  to  tend  only 
to  corrupt  manners,  found  nothing  to  spoil  in  an  indi- 
gent and  wandering  court.  Necessity,  on  the  contrary, 
which  produces  a  thousand  advantages  whether  we  will 
or  no,  served  them  for  education;  and  nothing  was  to  be 
seen  among  them  but  an  emulation  in  glory,  politeness, 
and  virtue. 

With  this  little  court,  in  such  high  esteem  for  merit, 
the  King  of  England  returned  two  years  prior  to  the 
period  we  mention,  to  ascend  a  throne  which,  to  all  ap- 
pearances, he  was  to  fill  as  worthily  as  the  most  glorious 
of  his  predecessors.  The  magnificence  displayed  on  this 
occasion  was  renewed  at  his  coronation.  * 

The  death  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,!  and  of  the 


*  There  is  some  reason  to  believe  that  the  Count  de  Grainniont, 
whose  circumstances  at  his  first  arrival  at  the  court  of  Britain  were 
inferior  to  his  rank,  endeavored  to  distin<(uish  himself  by  his 
literary-  acquiremeiits.  A  scarce  little  book,  in  Latin  and  French, 
upon  the  coronation,  has  been  ascribed  to  him  with  some  probabilit}'. 

t  This  event  took  place  September  3d,  1660.  He  died  of  the  small- 
pox.   "Though  mankind,"  as  Mr.  Macpherson  obser\'es,  "are  apt  to 


112 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Princess  Royal,*  wliicli  followed  soon  after,  had  inter- 
rupted the  course  of  this  splendor  by  a  tedious  mourning 
which  they  quitted  at  last  to  prepare  for  the  reception  of 
the  Infanta  of  Portugal,  t 

exaggerate  the  virtues  of  princes  who  happen  to  die  in  early  youth,  their 
praises  seem  to  have  done  no  more  than  justice  to  the  character  of 
Gloucester.  He  joined  in  himself  the  best  qualities  of  both  his  brothers: 
the  understanding  and  good-nature  of  Charles  to  the  industry  and  appli- 
cation of  James.  The  facility  of  the  first,  was  in  him  a  judicious  mod- 
eration. The  obstinacy  of  the  latter,  was  in  Gloucester  a  manly  firmness 
of  mind.  Attached  to  the  religion,  and  a  friend  to  the  constitution  of 
his  countrj-,  he  was  most  regretted,  when  his  familj-  regarded  these  the 
least.  The  vulgar,  who  crowd  with  eminent  virtues  and  great  actions 
the  years  which  fate  denies  to  their  favorites,  foresaw  future  misfortunes 
in  his  death  ;  and  even  the  judicious  supposed  that  the  measures  of 
Charles  might  have  derived  solidity  from  his  judgment  and  promising 
parts.  The  king  lamented  his  death  with  all  the  vehemence  of  an  af- 
fectionate sorrow."  The  Duke  of  York  was  much  affected  -uith  the  loss 
of  a  brother,  whose  high  merit  he  much  admired.  "  He  was  a  prince," 
says  James,  "  of  the  greatest  hopes,  undaunted  courage,  admirable  parts, 
and  a  clear  understanding."  He  had  a  particular  talent  at  languages. 
Besides  the  Latin,  he  was  master  of  the  French,  the  Spanish,  the  Ital- 
ian, and  Low  Dutch.  He  was,  in  short,  possessed  of  all  the  natural 
qualities,  as  well  as  acquired  accomplishments,  necessary  to  make  a 
great  prince.  MacphersoiVs  History  of  Great  Britain,  ch.  i.  Bishop 
Burnet's  character  of  this  young  prince  is  also  very  favorable.  See 
History  of  his  OzLni  Times,  vol.  i.,  p.  238. 

*  Mary,  eldest  daughter  of  Charles  I.,  bom  November  4th,  1626, 
married  to  the  Prince  of  Orange,  2d  May,  1641,  who  died  27th  October, 
1650.  She  arrived  in  England,  .September  23d,  and  died  of  the  small- 
pox, December  24th,  1660, — according  to  Bishop  Burnet,  not  nmch  la- 
mented. "She  had  lived,"  .says  the  author,  "in  her  widowhood  for 
some  years  with  great  reputation,  kept  a  decent  court,  and  supported 
her  brothers  verj-  liberally;  and  lived  witliin  bounds.  But  her  mother, 
who  had  the  art  of  making  herself  believe  anything  she  had  a  mind  to, 
upon  a  conversation  with  the  queen -mother  of  France,  fancied  the 
King  of  F'rance  might  l)e  inclined  to  marry  her.  So  she  wrote  to  her  to 
come  to  Paris.  In  order  to  that,  slit  made  an  equipage  far  above  what 
she  could  support.  So  .she  ran  herself  into  debt,  sold  all  her  jeweks, 
and  some  estates  that  were  in  her  power  as  her  son's  guardian  ;  and 
was  not  only  disappointed  of  that  vain  expectation,  but  fell  into  some 
misfortunes  that  lessened  the  reputation  she  had  formerly  lived  in." 
History  of  his  Own  Times,  vol.  i.,  p.  238.  She  was  mother  of 
William  III. 

t  "The  Infanta  of  Portugal  landed  in  May  (1662)  at  Portsmouth. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT 


113 


It  was  ill  the  height  of  the  rejoicings  they  were 
making  for  this  new  queen,  in  all  the  splendor  of  a 
brilliant  court,  that  the  Chevalier  de  Graniniont  arrived 
to  contribute  to  its  magnificence  and  diversions. 

Accustomed  as  he  was  to  the  grandeur  of  the  court 
of  France,  he  was  surprised  at  the  politeness  and 
splendor  of  the  court  of  England.  The  king  was  in- 
ferior to  none,*  either  in  shape  or  air  ;  his  wit  was 
pleasant ;  his  disposition  easy  and  affable  ;  his  soul, 
susceptible  of  opposite  impressions,  was  compassionate 
to  the  unhapp)',  inflexible  to  the  wicked,  and  tender 
even  to  excess  ;  he  showed  great  abilities  in  urgent 
affairs,  but  was  incapable  of  application  to  any  that  were 
not  so  :  his  heart  was  often  the  dupe,  but  oftener  the 
slave,  of  his  engagements. 

The  character  of  the  Duke  of  York  f  was  entirely 


The  king  went  thither,  and  was  married  privately  1)}'  Lord  Aubigny,  a 
secular  priest,  and  ahnoner  to  the  queen,  according  to  the  rites  of  Rome, 
in  the  queen's  chamber  ;  none  present  but  the  Portuguese  ambassador, 
three  more  Portuguese  of  quality,  and  two  or  three  Portuguese  women. 
What  made  this  necessary  was,  that  the  Earl  of  Sandwich  did  not  marry 
her  hy  proxy,  as  usual,  before  she  came  away.  How  this  happened, 
the  duke  knows  not,  nor  did  the  chancellor  know  of  this  private  mar- 
riage. The  queen  would  not  be  bedded,  till  pronounced  man  and  wife 
b}-  Sheldon,  bishop  of  London." — Extract  2,  from  King  James  IPs 
Journal. — Jl/arp/tersoii's  Stale  Papers,  vol.  i.  In  the  same  collection  is 
a  curious  letter  from  the  king  to  Lord  Clarendon,  giving  his  opinion  of 
the  queen  after  having  seen  her. 

*  Charles  11.  was  born  29th  I\Ia)',  1630,  and  died  6tli  P'ebruary,  16S4-5. 
His  character  is  very  amply  detailed  and  accuratel}'  depicted  by  tleorge 
Sa\dlle,  Marquis  of  Halifax,  in  a  volume  published  by  his  grand- 
daughter, the  Countess  of  Burlington,  8vo.,  1750.  See  also  Burnet, 
Clarendon,  and  Sheffield,  Duke  of  Buckingham. 

t  James,  Duke  of  York,  afterwards  King  James  II.  He  was  born 
I5tli  October,  1633  ;  succeeded  his  brother  6th  February,  1684-5  ;  abdi- 
cated the  crown  in  1688;  and  died  6th  September,  1701.  Bishop  Bur- 
net's character  of  him  appears  not  very  far  from  the  truth.  "He  was," 
says  this  writer,  "  very  brave  in  his  youth  ;  and  so  much  magnified  by 
Monsieur  Turenne,  that  till  his  marriage  lessened  him,  he  really  clouded 
the  king,  and  passed  for  the  su])erior  genius.  He  was  naturally  can- 
did and  sincere,  and  a  firm  friend,  till  affairs  and  his  religion  wore  out 


114 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


different :  he  had  the  reputation  of  undaunted  courage, 
an  inviolable  attachment  for  his  word,  great  economy 
in  his  affairs,  hauteur,  application,  arrogance,  each  in 
their  turn  :  a  scrupulous  observer  of  the  rules  of  duty 
and  the  laws  of  justice  ;  he  was  accounted  a  faithful 
friend,  and  an  implacable  enemy. 

His  morality  and  justice,  struggling  for  some  time  with 
prejudice,  had  at  last  triumphed,  by  his  acknowledging 
for  his  wife  Miss  Hyde,*  maid  of  honor  to  the  Princess 

all  his  first  principles  and  inclinations.  He  had  a  great  desire  to  un- 
derstand afTairs  :  and  in  order  to  that  he  kept  a  constant  journal  of  all 
that  passed,  of  which  he  showed  nie  a  great  deal.  The  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham gave  me  once  a  short  but  severe  character  of  the  two  brothers. 
It  was  the  more  severe,  because  it  was  true  :  the  king  (he  said)  could 
see  things  if  he  would  :  and  the  duke  would  see  things  if  he  could.  He 
had  no  true  judgment,  and  was  soon  determined  by  those  whom  he 
trusted  :  but  he  was  obstinate  against  all  other  advices.  He  was  bred 
with  high  notions  of  kingly  authority,  and  laid  it  down  for  a  maxim, 
tliat  all  who  opposed  the  king  were  rebels  in  their  hearts.  He  was 
perpetually  in  one  amour  or  other,  without  being  very  nice  in  his 
choice  :  upon  which  the  king  once  said,  be  believed  his  brother  had 
his  mistresses  given  him  by  his  priests  for  penance.  He  was  naturally 
eager  and  revengeful  :  and  was  against  the  taking  off  any  that  set  up 
in  an  opposition  to  the  measures  of  the  court,  and  who  by  that  means 
grew  popular  in  the  house  of  commons.  He  was  for  rougher  methods. 
He  continued  many  years  dissembling  his  religion,  and  seemed  zealous 
for  the  church  of  England,  but  it  was  chiefly  on  de.sign  to  hinder  all 
propositions  that  tended  to  unite  us  among  ourselves.  He  was  a 
frugal  prince,  and  brought  his  court  into  method  and  magnificence, 
for  he  had  /"loo.ooo  a-year  allowed  him.  He  was  made  high  admiral, 
and  he  came  to  understand  all  the  concerns  of  the  sea  ver\-  par- 
ticularl)-." 

*  Miss  Anne  Hj  de,  eldest  daughter  of  Lord  Chancellor  Clarendon. 
King  James  mentions  this  marriage  in  these  terms  :  "  The  king  at  first 
refused  the  Duke  of  York's  marriage  with  Miss  Hyde.  Many  of  the 
duke's  friends  and  servants  opposed  it.  The  king  at  last  consented, 
and  the  Duke  of  York  privately  married  her,  and  soon  after  owned  the 
marriage.  Her  want  of  birth  was  made  up  by  endowments  ;  and  her 
carriage  afterwards  became  her  acquired  dignit}-."  Again.  "When 
his  sister,  the  princess  royal,  came  to  Paris  to  see  the  queen-mother, 
the  Duke  of  York  fell  in  love  with  Mrs.  Anne  Hj-de,  one  of  her  maids 
of  honor.  Besides  her  person,  she  had  all  the  qualities  proper  to  in- 
flame a  heart  less  apt  to  take  fire  than  his  ;  which  she  managed  so  well 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


115 


Royal,  whom  he  had  secretly  married  in  Holland.  Her 
father,*  from  that  time  prime  minister  of  England,  sup- 
ported by  this  new  interest,  soon  rose  to  the  head  of 
affairs,  and  had  almost  ruined  them  :  not  that  he  wanted 
capacity,  but  he  was  too  self-sufficient. 

The  Duke  of  Ormondf  possessed  the  confidence  and 


as  to  bring  his  passion  to  such  an  height,  that,  between  the  time  he 
first  saw  her  and  the  winter  before  the  king's  restoration,  he  resolved 
to  marry  none  but  her  ;  and  promised  her  to  do  it :  and  though,  at  first, 
when  the  duke  asked  the  king  his  brother  for  his  leave,  he  refused, 
and  dissuaded  him  from  it,  j-et  at  last  he  opposed  it  no  more ;  and  ilie 
duke  married  her  privately,  owned  it  some  time  after,  and  was  ever 
after  a  true  friend  to  the  chancellor  for  several  years." — Macphcrson'' s 
State  Papers,  vol.  i. 

*Ivdward  Hyde,  Earl  of  Clarendon,  "for  his  comprehensive  knowl- 
edge of  mankind,  styled  the  chancellor  of  human  nature.  His  char- 
acter, at  this  distance  of  time,  may  and  ought  to  be  impartially  con- 
sidered. Designing  or  blinded  contemporaries  heaped  the  most  unjust 
abuse  upon  him.  The  subsequent  age,  when  the  partisans  of  preroga- 
tive were  at  least  the  loudest,  if  not  the  most  numerous,  smit  with 
a  work  that  defied  their  niartj-r,  have  been  unbounded  in  their  en- 
comium."—  Catalogue  of  Xoble  Authors,  vol.  ii.,  p.  i8.  Lord  Orford, 
who  professes  to  steer  a  middle  course,  and  separate  his  great  virtues 
as  a  man  from  his  faults  as  an  historian,  acknowledges  that  he  pos- 
sessed almost  every  virtue  of  a  minister  which  could  make  his  character 
venerable.    He  died  in  exile,  in  the  year  1674. 

t  James  Butler,  Duke  of  Ormond,  born  19th  October,  1610,  and  died 
2ist  Jul}',  1688.  Lord  Clarendon,  in  the  Continuation  of  his  Life,  ob- 
serves, that  "he  frankly  engaged  his  person  and  his  fortune  in  the 
king's  service,  from  the  first  hour  of  the  troubles,  and  pursued  it  with 
courage  and  constancy,  that  when  the  king  was  murdered,  and  he 
deserted  by  the  Irish,  contrary  to  the  articles  of  peace  which  they  had 
made  with  him,  and  when  he  could  make  no  longer  defence,  he  refused 
all  the  conditions  which  Cromwell  offered — who  would  have  given  him 
his  vast  estate  if  he  would  have  been  contented  to  live  quietlj'  in  some 
of  his  own  houses,  without  further  concerning  himself  in  the  quarrel — 
and  transported  himself,  without  so  nmch  as  accepting  a  pass  from  his 
autliorit}-,  in  a  little,  weak  vessel  into  France,  where  he  found  the  king, 
from  whom  he  never  parted  till  he  returned  with  him  into  England. 
Having  thus  merited  as  much  as  a  subject  can  do  from  a  prince,  he 
had  nmch  more  credit  and  esteem  with  the  king  than  any  other  man." 
— Continuation  of  the  Life  of  Lord  Clarendon,  p.  4,  fol.  edit.  Bishop 
Burnet  says  of  him  :  '  He  was  a  man  every  way  fitted  for  a  court ;  of  a 
graceful  appearance,  a  lively  wit,  and  a  cheerful  temper ;  a  man  of 


116 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


esteem  of  his  master  :  the  greatness  of  his  services,  the 
splendor  of  his  merit  and  his  birth,  and  the  fortnne  he 
had  abandoned  in  adhering  to  the  fate  of  his  prince, 
rendered  him  worth}-  of  it  :  nor  durst  the  courtiers  even 
murmur  at  seeing  him  grand  steward  of  the  househokl, 
first  lord  of  the  bed-chamber,  and  lord-lieutenant  of  Ire- 
land. He  exactly  resembled  the  IMarshal  de  Grammont, 
in  the  turn  of  his  wit  and  the  nobleness  of  his  manners, 
and  like  him  was  the  honor  of  his  master's  court. 

The  Duke  of  Buckingham  *  and  the  Earl  of  St.  Al- 
bans t  were  the  same  in  England  as  they  appeared  in 


great  expence  ;  decent  even  in  his  vices,  for  he  always  kept  up  the  form 
of  religion.  He  had  gone  through  many  transactions  in  Ireland  with 
more  fidelity  than  success.  He  had  made  a  treaty  with  the  Irish, 
which  was  broken  by  the  great  body  of  them,  though  some  few  of  them 
adhered  still  to  him.  Rut  the  whole  Irish  nation  did  still  pretend, 
that  though  they  had  broke  the  agreement  first,  yet  he,  or  rather  the 
king,  in  whose  name  he  had  treated  with  them,  was  bound  to  perform 
all  the  articles  of  the  treaty.  He  had  miscarried  so  in  the  siege  of 
Dublin,  that  it  very  much  lessened  the  opinion  of  his  military  con- 
duct. Yet  his  constant  attendance  on  his  master,  his  easiness  to  him, 
and  his  great  suffering  for  him,  raised  him  to  be  lord-steward  of  the 
household,  and  lord-lieutenant  of  Ireland.  He  was  firm  to  the  Prot- 
estant religion,  and  so  far  firm  to  the  laws,  that  he  always  gave  good 
advices ;  but  when  bad  ones  were  followed,  he  was  not  for  com- 
plaining too  much  of  them."— ///i/fry  of  his  Own  Times,  vol.  i., 
p.  230. 

*  "The  Duke  of  Buckingham  is  again  one  hundred  and  forty  thou- 
sand pounds  in  debt ;  and  by  this  prorogation  his  creditors  have  time 
to  tear  all  his  lands  to  pieces^" — Attdrew  MarveWs  Works,  4to.  edit, 
vol.  i.,  p.  406. 

t  Henry  Jermyn,  Earl  of  St.  Albans,  and  Baron  of  St.  Edmond's 
Bury.  He  was  master  of  the  horse  to  Queen  Henrietta  and  one  of  the 
privy-council  to  Charles  II.  In  July,  1660,  he  was  sent  ambassador  to 
the  court  of  France,  and,  in  1671,  was  made  lord-chaml)erlain  of  his 
majesty's  household.  He  died  January  2,  16S3.  Sir  John  Reresby  as- 
serts that  Lord  St.  Albans  was  married  to  Queen  Henrietta.  "The 
abbess  of  an  English  college  in  Paris,  whither  the  queen  used  to  retire, 
would  tell  me,"  says  Sir  John,  "that  Lord  Jermyn,  since  St.  Albans, 
had  the  queen  greatly  in  awe  of  him  ;  and  indeed  it  was  obvious  that 
he  had  great  interest  with  her  concerns  ;  but  that  he  was  married  to 
her,  or  had  children  by  her,  as  .some  have  reported,  I  did  not  then  be- 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


117 


France  :  the  one  full  of  wit  and  vivacity,  dissipated, 
without  splendor,  an  immense  estate  upon  which  he  had 
just  entered  :  the  other,  a  man  of  no  great  genius,  had 
raised  himself  a  considerable  fortune  from  nothing,  and 
by  losing  at  pla}-,  and  keeping  a  great  table,  made  it 
appear  greater  than  it  was. 

Sir  George  Berkeley,*  afterwards  Earl  of  Falmouth, 
was  the  confidant  and  favorite  of  the  king  :  he  com- 
manded the  Duke  of  York's  regiment  of  guards,  and 
governed  the  duke  himself  He  had  nothing  very  re- 
markable either  in  his  wit  or  his  person  ;  but  his  senti- 
ments were  worthy  of  the  fortune  which  awaited  him, 
when,  on  the  very  point  of  his  elevation,  he  was  killed 
at  sea.  Never  did  disinterestedness  so  perfectly  char- 
acterise the  greatness  of  the  soul  :  he  had  no  views  but 
what  tended  to  the  glory  of  his  master  :  his  credit  was 
never  employed  but  in  advising  him  to  reward  servdces, 
or  to  confer  favors  on  merit  :  so  polished  in  conversa- 
tion, that  the  greater  his  power,  the  greater  was  his  hu- 
mility ;  and  so  sincere  in  all  his  proceedings,  that  he 
would  never  have  been  taken  for  a  courtier. 

lieve,  though  the  thing  was  certainly  so." — Memoirs,  p.  4.  Madame 
Baviere,  iu  her  letter,  says:  "Charles  the  First's  \vddow  made  a  clan- 
destine marriage  with  her  chevalier  d' honneur,  Lord  St.  Albans,  who 
treated  her  extremely  ill,  so  that,  whilst  she  had  not  a  fagot  to  warm 
herself,  he  had  in  his  apartment  a  good  fire  and  a  sumptuous  table. 
He  never  gave  the  queen  a  kind  word,  and  when  she  spoke  to  him  he 
used  to  saj%  Que  me  veut  cctte  femiiie  f  "  Hamilton  hints  at  his  selfish- 
ness a  little  lower. 

*  This  Sir  George  Berkeley,  as  he  is  here  improperly  called,  was 
Charles  Berkley,  second  son  of  Sir   Berkley,  of  Bruton,  in  Glou- 
cestershire, and  was  the  principal  favorite  and  companion  of  the  Duke 
of  York  in  all  his  campaigns.  He  was  created  Baron  Berkley  of  Rath- 
down,  and  Viscount  Fitzhardiug  of  Ireland,  and  Baron  Bottetort  and 
Earl  of  Falmouth  in  England,  17th  March,  1664.  He  had  the  address 
to  secure  himself  in  the  affections  equally  of  the  king  and  his  brother 
at  the  same  time.  Lord  Clarendon,  who  seems  to  have  conceived,  and 
■with  reason,  a  prejudice  against  him,  calls  him  "a  fellow  of  great 
■wickedness,"  and  says,  "he  was  one  in  whom  few  other  men  (except 
tlie  king)  had  ever  observed  any  \-irtue  or  quality,  which  they  did  not 
wish  their  best  friends  without." 


118 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


The  Duke  of  Ormond's  sons  and  his  nephews  had  been 
in  the  king's  court  during  his  exile,  and  were  far  from 
diminishing  its  lustre  after  his  return.  The  Earl  of 
Arran  *  had  a  singular  address  in  all  kinds  of  exercises, 
played  well  at  tennis  and  on  the  guitar,  and  was  pretty 
successful  in  gallantry  :  his  elder  brother,  the  Earl  of 
Ossory,  f  was  not  so  lively,  but  of  the  most  liberal  senti- 
ments, and  of  great  probity. 

The  elder  of  the  Hamiltons,  their  cousin,  was  the 
man  who  of  all  the  court  dressed  best :  he  was  well 
made  in  his  person,  and  possessed  those  happy  talents 
which  lead  to  fortune,  and  procure  success  in  love  :  he 
was  a  most  assiduous  courtier,  had  the  most  lively  wit, 
the  most  polished  manners,  and  the  most  punctual  at- 
tention to  his  master  imaginable  :  no  person  danced 
better,  nor  was  any  one  a  more  general  lover  :  a  merit 
of  some  account  in  a  court  entirely  devoted  to  love  and 
gallantry.    It  is  not  at  all  surprising,  that  with  these 


*  Richard  Butler,  Earl  of  Arran,  fifth  son  of  James  Butler,  the  first 
Duke  of  Onnond.  He  was  born  15th  July,  1639,  and  educated  with 
great  care,  being  taught  everything  suitable  to  his  birth,  and  the  great 
affection  his  parents  had  for  him. 

t  Thomas,  Earl  of  Ossory,  eldest  son  of  the  first,  and  father  of  the 
last  Duke  of  Ormond,  was  born  at  Kilkenny,  8th  July,  1634.  At  the 
age  of  twenty-one  years  he  had  so  much  distinguished  himself  that  Sir 
Robert  Southwell  then  drew  the  following  character  of  him  :  "  He  is  a 
young  man  with  a  very  handsome  face  ;  a  good  head  of  hair  ;  well  set ; 
very  good  natured  ;  rides  the  great  horse  very  well  ;  is  a  very  good 
tennis-player,  fencer  and  dancer  ;  understands  music,  and  plays  on  the 
guitar  and  lute  ;  speaks  French  elegantly  ;  reads  Italian  fluently  ;  is  a 
good  historian  ;  and  so  well  versed  in  romances  that  if  a  gallery  be  full 
of  pictures  and  hangings  he  will  tell  the  stories  of  all  that  are  there 
described.  He  shuts  up  his  door  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  and 
studies  till  midnight :  he  is  temperate,  courteous,  and  excellent  in  all 
his  behavior."  His  death  was  occasioned  by  a  fever,  30th  July,  1680, 
to  the  grief  of  his  family  and  the  public.  I^ord  Ossory  married  in  1659 
Eniile  de  Nassau,  eldest  daughter  of  Louis  de  Nassau,  Lord  Bever- 
waert,  in  Holland,  the  acknowledged  but  not  legitimate  son  of  Maurice, 
Prince  of  Orange.  A  sister  of  this  lady  married  Lord  Arlington  :  see 
note  to  Lord  Arlington,  injra. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT.  119 


qualities  he  succeeded  my  Lord  Falmouth  in  the  King's 
favor  ;  but  it  is  very  extraordinary  that  he  should  have 
experienced  the  same  destin}-,  as  if  this  sort  of  war  had 
been  declared  against  merit  only,  and  as  if  this  sort  of 
combat  was  fatal  to  none  but  such  as  had  certain  hopes 
of  a  splendid  fortune.  This,  however,  did  not  happen 
till  some  years  afterwards. 

The  beau  Sydney,  *  less  dangerous  than  he  appeared 
to  be,  had  not  sufficient  vivacity  to  support  the  im- 
pression which  his  figure  made  ;  but  little  Jermyn  was 
on  all  sides  successful  in  his  intrigues.  The  old  Earl 
of  St.  Albans,  his  iincle,  had  for  a  long  time  adopted 
him,  though  the  youngest  of  all  his  nephews.  It  is 
well  known  what  a  table  the  good  man  kept  at  Paris, 
while  the  King,  his  master,  was  starving  at  Brussels, 
and  the  Queen  Dowager,  his  mistress, f  lived  not  over 
well  in  France. 


*  Robert  Sydney,  third  son  of  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  and  brother  of 
the  famous  Algernon  Sydney,  who  was  beheaded. 

t  To  what  a  miserable  state  the  queen  was  reduced  may  be  seen  in 
the  following  extract  from  De  Retz:  "Four  or  five  days  before  the 
king  removed  from  Paris,  I  went  to  visit  the  Queen  of  England,  whom 
I  found  in  her  daughter's  chamber,  who  hath  been  since  Duchess  of 
Orleans.  At  my  coming  in  she  said  :  '  You  see  I  am  come  to  keep 
Henrietta  compau}-.  The  poor  child  could  not  rise  to-day  for  want  of 
a  fire.'  The  truth  is,  that  the  cardinal  for  six  months  together  had  not 
ordered  her  an\-  money  towards  her  pension ;  that  no  tradespeople 
would  trust  her  for  anything ;  and  that  there  was  not  at  her  lodgings 
in  the  Louvre  one  single  billet.  You  will  do  me  the  justice  to  suppose 
that  the  Princess  of  England  did  not  keep  her  bed  the  next  day  for 
want  of  a  fagot ;  but  it  was  not  this  which  the  Princess  of  Condd  meant 
in  her  letter.  What  she  spoke  about  was,  that  some  days  after  my 
visiting  the  Queen  of  England,  I  remembered  the  condition  I  had  found 
her  in,  and  had  strongly  represented  the  shame  of  abandoning  her  in 
that  manner,  which  caused  the  parliament  to  send  40,000  livres  to  her 
majesty.  Posteritj^  will  hardly  believe  that  a  Princess  of  England, 
grand-daughter  of  Henry  the  Great,  had  wanted  a  fagot,  in  the  month 
of  January,  to  get  out  of  bed  in  the  Louvre,  and  in  the  eyes  of  a  French 
court.  We  read  in  histories,  with  horror,  of  baseness  less  monstrous 
than  this ;  and  the  little  concern  I  have  met  with  about  it  in  most 
people's  minds  has  obliged  me  to  make,  I  believe,  a  thousand  times. 


120  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Jermyn,*  supported  by  his  uncle's  wealth,  found  it 
no  difficult  matter  to  make  a  considerable  figure  upon, 
his  arrival  at  the  court  of  the  Princess  of  Orange  :  the 
poor  courtiers  of  the  king  her  brother  could  not  vie 
with  him  in  point  of  equipage  and  magnificence  ;  and 
these  two  articles  often  produce  as  much  success  in  love 
as  real  merit :  there  is  no  necessity  for  any  other  ex- 
ample than  the  present ;  for  though  Jermyn  was  brave, 
and  certainly  a  gentleman,  yet  he  had  neither  brilliant 
actions  nor  distinguished  rank  to  set  him  off ;  and  as  for 
his  figure,  there  was  nothing  advantageous  in  it.  He 
was  little  :  his  head  was  large  and  his  legs  small  ;  his 
features  were  not  disagreeable,  but  he  was  affected  in  his 
carriage  and  behavior.  All  his  wit  consisted  in  ex- 
pressions learnt  by  rote,  which  he  occasionally  em- 
ployed either  in  raillery  or  in  love.    This  was  the 


this  reflection  :  that  examples  of  times  past  move  men  beyond  compari- 
son more  than  those  of  their  own  times.  We  accustom  ourselves  to 
what  we  see  ;  and  I  have  sometimes  told  you,  that  I  doubted  whether 
Caligula's  horse  being  made  a  consul  would  have  surprised  us  so  much 
as  we  imagine." — Memoirs,  vol.  i.,  p.  261.  As  for  the  relative  situation 
of  the  king  and  Lord  Jermyn  (afterwards  St.  Albans),  Lord  Clarendon 
says,  that  the  "  Marquis  of  Ormoud  was  compelled  to  put  himself  in 
prison,  with  other  gentlemen,  at  a  pistole  a  week  for  his  diet,  and  to 
walk  the  streets  a-foot,  which  was  no  honorable  custom  in  Paris,  whilst 
the  Lord  Jermyn  kept  an  excellent  table  for  those  who  courted  him, 
and  had  a  coach  of  his  own,  and  all  other  accommodations  incident  to 
the  most  full  fortune  :  and  if  the  king  had  the  most  urgent  occasion 
for  the  use  of  but  twenty  pistoles,  as  sometimes  he  had,  he  could  not  find 
credit  to  borrow  it,  which  he  often  had  experiment  of." — History  of 
the  Rebellion,  vol.  iii.,  p.  2. 

*  Henry  Jermyn,  youngest  son  of  Thomas,  elder  brother  of  the  Earl 
of  St.  Albans.  He  was  created  Baron  Dover  in  1685,  and  died  without 
children,  at  Cheveley,  in  Cambridgeshire,  April  6,  1708.  His  corpse 
was  carried  to  Bruges,  in  Flanders,  and  buried  in  the  monastery  of  the 
Carmelites  there.  St.  Evremond,  who  visited  Mr.  Jermyn  at  Cheveley, 
says,  "we  went  thither,  and  were  very  kindly  received  by  a  person 
who,  though  he  has  taken  his  leave  of  the  court,  has  carried  the  ci- 
vility and  good  taste  of  it  into  the  country." — St.  Evremond' s  Works, 
vol.  ii.,  p.  223. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT.  121 


whole  foundation  of  the  merit  of  a  man  so  formidable  in 
amours. 

The  Princess  Royal  was  the  first  who  was  taken  with 
him  :  *  Miss  Hyde  seemed  to  be  following  the  steps  of 
her  mistress  :  this  immediately  brought  him  into  credit, 
and  his  reputation  was  established  in  England  before 
his  arrival.  Prepossession  in  the  minds  of  women  is 
sufficient  to  find  access  to  their  hearts  ;  Jennyn  found 
them  in  dispositions  so  favorable  for  him,  that  he  had 
nothing  to  do  but  to  speak. 

It  was  in  vain  they  perceived  that  a  reputation  so 
lightly  established  was  still  more  weakly  sustained  :  the 
prejudice  remained  :  the  Countess  of  Castlemaine,t  a 

*  It  was  suspected  of  this  princess  to  have  had  a  similar  engagement 
with  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  as  the  queen  with  Jennyn,  and  that  was 
the  cause  she  would  not  see  the  Duke  on  his  second  voyage  to  Hol- 
land, in  the  year  1652. 

t  This  lady,  who  makes  so  distinguished  a  figure  in  the  annals  of 
infamj-,  was  Barbara,  daughter  and  heir  of  William  Villiers,  I<ord  Vis- 
count Grandison,  of  the  kingdom  of  Ireland,  who  died  in  1642,  in  con- 
sequence of  wounds  received  at  the  battle  of  Edgehill.  She  was  mar- 
ried, just  before  the  restoration,  to  Roger  Palmer,  Esq.,  then  a  student 
in  the  Temple,  and  heir  to  a  considerable  fortune.  In  the  thirteenth 
year  of  King  Charles  II.  he  was  created  Earl  of  Castlemaine  in  the 
kingdom  of  Ireland.  She  had  a  daughter,  born  in  February,  1661, 
W'hile  she  cohabited  with  her  husband  ;  but  shortly  after  she  became 
the  avowed  mistress  of  the  king,  who  continued  his  connection  with 
her  until  about  the  year  1672,  when  she  was  delivered  of  a  daughter, 
which  was  supposed  to  be  Mr.  Churchill's,  afterwards  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough, and  which  the  king  disavowed.  Her  gallantries  were  by  no 
means  confined  to  one  or  two,  nor  were  they  unknown  to  his  majesty. 
In  the  }-ear  1670  she  was  created  Baroness  of  Nonsuch,  in  Surrey, 
Countess  of  Southampton,  and  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  during  her 
natural  life,  with  remainder  to  Charles  and  George  Fitzroy,  her  eldest 
and  third  sons,  and  their  heirs  male.  In  July,  1705,  her  husband  died, 
and  she  soon  after  married  a  man  of  desperate  fortune,  known  by  the 
name  of  Handsome  Fielding,  who  behaving  in  a  manner  unjustifiably 
severe  towards  her,  she  was  obliged  to  have  resource  to  law  for  her 
protection.  Fortunately  it  was  discovered  that  Fielding  had  already  a 
wife  living,  by  which  means  the  duchess  was  enabled  to  free  herself 
from  his  authorit}-.  She  lived  about  two  years  afterwards,  and  died  of 
a  dropsy,  on  the  9th  of  October,  1709,  in  her  69th  year.    Bishop  Burnet 


122 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


woman  lively  and  discerning,  followed  the  delusive 
shadow  ;  and  though  undeceived  in  a  reputation  which 
promised  so  mi:ch,  and  performed  so  little,  she  neverthe- 
less continued  in  her  infatuation  :  she  even  persisted  in 
it,  until  she  was  upon  the  point  of  embroiling  herself 
with  the  King  ;  so  great  was  this  first  instance  of  her 
constancy. 

Such  were  the  heroes  of  the  court.  As  for  the  beau- 
ties, you  could  not  look  anywhere  without  seeing  them : 
those  of  the  greatest  reputation  were  this  same  Countess 
of  Castlemaine,  afterwards  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  Lady 
Chesterfield,  I^ady  Shrewsbury,*  the  Mrs.  Roberts,  Mrs. 
Middleton,  the  Misses  Brooks,!  and  3.  thousand  others, 
who  shone  at  court  with  equal  lustre  ;  but  it  was  Miss 
Hamilton  and  Miss  Stewart  who  were  its  chief  orna- 
ments. The  new  queen  gave  but  little  additional  bril- 
liancy to  the  court,  J  either  in  her  person  or  in  her 

says  :  "  She  was  a  woman  of  great  beauty,  but  most  enormovislj-  vicious 
and  ravenous  ;  foolish,  but  imperious ;  very  uneasy  to  the  king,  and 
always  carrying  on  intrigues  with  other  men,  while  yet  she  pretended 
she  was  jealous  of  him.  His  passion  for  her,  and  her  strange  behavior 
towards  him,  did  so  disorder  him  that  often  he  was  not  master  of  him- 
self, nor  capable  of  minding  business,  which,  in  so  critical  a  time, 
required  great  application." — History  of  his  Oivn  Times,  vol.  i.,  p. 
129. 

*  Anna  Maria,  Countess  of  vShrewsbur}^  eldest  daughter  of  Robert 
Brudenel,  Earl  of  Cardigan,  and  wife  of  Francis,  Earl  of  Shrewsburj', 
who  was  killed  in  a  duel  by  George,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  March  16, 
1667.  She  afterwards  remarried  with  George  Rodney  Bridges,  Esq., 
second  son  of  Sir  Thomas  Bridges  of  Keynsham,  in  Somersetshire, 
knight,  and  died  April  20,  1702.  By  her  second  husband  she  had  one 
son,  George  Rodney  Bridges,  who  died  in  1751.  This  woman  is  said 
to  have  been  so  abandoned,  as  to  have  held,  in  the  habit  of  a  page, 
her  gallant  the  duke's  horse,  while  he  fought  and  killed  her  husband  ; 
after  which  she  went  to  bed  with  him,  stained  with  her  husband's 
blood. 

t  One  of  these  ladies  married  vSirJohn  Deuham,  and  is  mentioned 
hereafter. 

:|:  Lord  Clarendon  confirms,  in  some  measure,  this  account.  "There 
was  a  numerous  family  of  men  and  women,  that  were  sent  from  Por- 
tugal, the  most  improper  to  promote  that  conformity  in  the  queen  that 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


123 


retinue,  which  was  then  composed  of  the  Coimtess  de 
Panetra,  who  came  over  with  her  in  quality  of  lady  of 
the  bedchamber ;  six  frij^hts,  who  called  themselves 
maids  of  honor,  and  a  duenna,  another  monster,  who 
took  the  title  of  governess  to  those  extraordinary  beau- 
ties. 

Among  the  men  were  Francisco  de  Melo,  brother  to 
the  Countess  de  Panetra  ;  one  Taurauvedez,  wlio  called 
himself  Don  Pedro  Francisco  Correo  de  Silva,  extremely 
handsome,  but  a  greater  fool  than  all  the  Portuguese 
put  together :  he  was  more  vain  of  his  names  than  of  his 
person  ;  but  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  a  still  greater 
fool  than  he,  though  more  addicted  to  raillery,  gave  him 
the  additional  name  of  Peter  of  the  Wood.  He  was  so 
enraged  at  this,  that,  after  many  fruitless  complaints 
and  ineflfectual  menaces,  poor  Pedro  de  Silva  was  obliged 
to  leave  England,  while  the  happy  duke  kept  possession 

was  iiecessarj-  for  her  condition  and  future  happiness  that  could  be 
chosen  ;  the  women,  for  the  most  part,  old  and  ugly,  and  proud,  in- 
capable of  any  conversation  with  persous  of  quality  and  a  liberal  edu- 
cation :  and  they  desired,  and  indeed  had  conspired  so  far  to  possess  the 
queen  themselves,  that  she  should  neither  learn  the  English  language 
nor  use  their  habit,  nor  depart  from  the  manners  and  fashions  of  her 
own  country  in  any  particulars:  which  resolution,"  they  told,  "would 
be  for  the  dignity  of  Portugal,  and  would  quickly  induce  the  Knglish 
ladies  to  conform  to  her  majesty's  practice.  And  this  imagination  had 
made  that  impression,  that  the  tailor  who  had  been  sent  into  Portugal 
to  make  her  clothes  could  never  be  admitted  to  see  her  or  receive  any 
employment.  Xor  when  she  came  to  Portsmouth,  and  found  there 
several  ladies  of  honor  and  prime  quality  to  attend  her  in  the  places 
to  which  they  were  assigned  by  the  king,  did  she  receive  any  of  them 
till  the  king  himself  came  ;  nor  then  with  any  grace,  or  the  liberty 
that  belonged  to  their  places  and  offices.  She  could  not  be  persuaded 
to  be  dressed  out  of  the  wardrobe  that  the  king  had  sent  to  her,  but 
would  wear  the  clothes  which  she  had  brought,  until  she  found  that 
the  king  was  displeased,  and  would  be  obeyed ;  whereupon  she  con- 
formed, against  the  advice  of  her  women,  who  continued  their  opinia- 
trety,  without  any  one  of  them  receding  from  their  own  mode,  which 
exposed  them  the  more  to  reproach." — Continuation  of  Clarendon's 
Life,  p.  i68.  In  a  short  time  after  their  arrival  iu  England  they  were 
ordered  back  to  Portugal. 


124 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


of  a  Portuguese  uymph  more  hideous  than  the  queen's 
maids  of  honor,  whom  he  had  taken  from  him,  as  well 
as  two  of  his  names.  Besides  these,  there  were  six 
chaplains,  four  bakers,  a  Jew  perfumer,  and  a  certain 
officer,  probably  without  an  office,  who  called  himself 
her  higliness's  barber.  Katherine  de  Braganza  was  far 
from  appearing  with  splendor  in  the  charming  court 
where  she  came  to  reign  ;  however,  in  the  end  she  was 
pretty  successful.*  The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  who 
had  been  long  known  to  the  royal  family,  and  to  most 
of  the  gentlemen  of  the  court,  had  only  to  get  acquainted 
with  the  ladies  ;  and  for  this  he  wanted  no  interpreter  : 
they  all  spoke  French  enough  to  explain  themselves, 
and  they  all  understood  it  sufficiently  to  comprehend 
what  he  had  to  say  to  them. 

The  queen's  court  was  always  very  numerous  ;  that 
of  the  duchess  was  less  so,  but  more  select.  This 
princess  t  had  a  majestic  air,  a  pretty  good  shape,  not 

*  Lord  Clarendon  saj-s,  ' '  the  queen  had  beauty  and  wit  enough  to 
make  herself  agreeable  to  him  (the  king)  ;  and  it  is  very  certain,  that, 
at  their  first  meeting,  and  for  some  time  after,  the  king  had  very  good 
satisfaction  in  her.  .  .  .  Though  she  was  of  years  enough  to  have  had 
more  experience  of  the  world,  and  of  as  much  wit  as  could  be  wished, 
and  of  a  humor  very  agreeable  at  some  seasons,  yet  she  had  been  bred, 
according  to  the  mode  and  discipline  of  her  country,  in  a  monastery, 
where  she  had  only  seen  the  women  who  attended  her,  and  conversed 
with  the  religious  who  resided  there  ;  and,  without  doubt,  in  her  in- 
clinations, was  enough  disposed  to  have  been  one  of  that  number :  and 
from  this  restraint  she  was  called  out  to  be  a  great  queen,  and  to  a  free 
conversation  in  a  court  that  was  to  be  upon  the  matter  new  formed, 
and  reduced  from  the  manners  of  a  licentious  age  to  the  old  rules  and 
limits  which  had  lieen  observed  in  better  times  ;  to  which  regular  and 
decent  conformity  the  present  disposition  of  men  or  women  was  not 
enough  inclined  to  submit,  nor  the  king  enough  disposed  to  exact." — 
Coniintiation  of  Lord  Clarendon' s  Life,  p.  167.  After  some  struggle, 
she  submitted  to  the  king's  licentious  conduct,  and  from  that  time 
lived  upon  easy  terms  with  him  until  his  death.  On  the  30th  March, 
1692,  she  left  Somerset-house,  her  usual  residence,  and  retired  to  Lis- 
bon, where  she  died,  31st  December,  1705,  N.  S. 

t  "The  Duchess  of  York,"  says  Bishop  Burnet,  "was  a  very  extraor- 
dinary woman.   She  had  great  knowledge,  and  a  lively  sense  of  things. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


125 


much  beauty,  a  great  deal  of  wit,  and  so  just  a  discern- 
ment of  merit,  that,  whoever  of  either  sex  were  possessed 
of  it,  were  sure  to  be  distinguished  by  her  :  an  air  of 
grandeur  in  all  her  actions  made  her  be  considered  as  if 
born  to  support  tlie  rank  which  placed  her  so  near  the 
throne.  The  queen  dowager  returned  after  the  mar- 
riage of  the  princess  royal,  *  and  it  was  in  her  court  that 
the  two  others  met. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  was  soon  liked  by  all 
parties  :  those  who  had  not  known  him  before  were  sur- 
prised to  see  a  Frenchman  of  his  disposition.  The 


She  soon  understood  wliat  belonged  to  a  princess,  and  took  state  on 
her  rathei  too  much.  She  wrote  well,  and  had  begun  the  duke's  life, 
of  which  she  showed  me  a  volume.  It  was  all  drawn  from  his  journal ; 
and  he  intended  to  have  employed  me  in  carrj-ing  it  on.  She  was  bred 
in  great  strictness  in  religion,  and  practised  secret  confession.  Morley 
told  me  he  was  her  confessor.  She  began  at  twelve  years  old,  and 
continued  under  his  direction  till,  upon  her  father's  disgrace,  he  was 
put  from  the  court.  She  was  generous  and  friendly,  but  was  too  severe 
an  enemy." — History  of  his  Oiuii  Times,  vol.  i.,  p.  237.  She  was  con- 
tracted to  the  duke  at  Breda,  November  24,  1659,  and  married  at 
Worcester-house,  3d  September,  1660,  in  the  night,  between  eleven 
and  two,  by  Dr.  Joseph  Crowther,  the  duke's  chaplain  ;  the  Lord  Ossory 
giving  her  in  marriage. — Keniict's  J^cgis/ei\  p.  246.  She  died  31st 
March,  1671,  having  previously  acknowledged  herself  to  be  a  Roman 
Catholic. — See  also  her  character  by  Bishop  Morley. — Ki  iinrt's  A't's^is- 
tc>\  p.  385,  390. 

*  Queen  Henrietta  Maria  arrived  at  Whitehall,  2d  November,  1660, 
after  nineteen  years  absence.  She  was  received  with  acclamations ; 
and  bonfires  were  lighted  on  the  occasion,  both  in  London  and  West- 
minster. She  returned  to  France  with  her  daughter,  the  Princess  Hen- 
rietta, 2d  Januar}',  1660-61.  She  arrived  again  at  Greenwich,  28th 
July,  1662,  and  continued  to  keep  her  court  in  Kugland  until  Jul}-,  1665, 
when  she  embarked  foi  France,  "  and  took  so  many  things  with  her,' 
saj-s  Lord  Clarendon,  "that  it  was  thought  by  many  that  she  did  not 
intend  ever  to  return  into  England.  Whatever  her  intentions  at  that 
time  were,  she  never  did  see  England  again,  though  she  lived  many 
years  after." — Conlinuatiou  of  Ciarendon  s  Life,  p.  263.  She  died  at 
Colombe,  near  Paris,  in  August,  1669  ;  and  her  son,  the  Duke  of  York, 
pronounces  this  eulogium  on  her  :  "  She  excelled  in  all  the  good  qual- 
ities of  a  good  wife,  of  a  good  mother,  and  a  good  Christian." — Mac- 
pherson's  Original  Papers,  vol.  i. 


126 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


king's  restoration  having  drawn  a  great  number  of 
foreigners  from  all  countries  to  the  court,  the  French 
were  rather  in  disgrace  ;  for,  instead  of  any  persons  of 
distinction  having  appeared  among  the  first  who  came 
over,  they  had  only  seen  some  insignificant  puppies,  each 
striving  to  outdo  the  other  in  folly  and  extravagance, 
despising  everything  which  was  not  like  themselves,  and 
thinking  they  introduced  the  bcl  air^  by  treating  the 
English  as  strangers  in  their  own  coinitry. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  on  the  contrary,  was 
familiar  with  everybody :  he  gave  in  to  their  customs, 
eat  of  everything,  and  easily  habituated  himself  to  their 
manner  of  living,  which  he  looked  upon  as  neither  vul- 
gar nor  barbarous  ;  and  as  he  showed  a  natural  com- 
plaisance, instead  of  the  impertinent  affectation  of  the 
others,  all  the  nation  was  charmed  with  a  man  who 
agreeably  indemnified  them  for  what  they  had  suffered 
from  the  folly  of  the  former. 

He  first  of  all  made  his  court  to  the  king,  and  was  of 
all  his  parties  of  pleasure  :  he  played  high,  and  lost  but 
seldom  :  he  found  so  little  difference  in  the  manners  and 
conversation  of  those  with  whom  he  chiefly  associated, 
that  he  could  scarcely  believe  he  was  out  of  his  own 
country.  Everything  which  could  agreeably  engage  a 
man  of  his  disposition  presented  itself  to  his  different 
humors,  as  if  the  pleasures  of  the  court  of  France  had 
quitted  it  to  accompany  him  in  his  exile. 

He  was  every  day  engaged  for  some  entertainment ; 
and  those  who  wished  to  regale  him  in  their  turn  were 
obliged  to  take  their  measures  in  time,  and  to  invite  him 
eight  or  ten  days  beforehand.  These  importimate  civil- 
ities became  tiresome  in  tlie  long  run  ;  bixt  as  they 
seemed  indispensable  to  a  man  of  his  disposition,  and  as 
they  were  the  most  genteel  people  of  the  court  who 
loaded  him  with  them,  he  submitted  with  a  good  grace  ; 
but  always  reserved  to  himself  the  liberty  of  supping  at 
home. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


127 


His  Slipper  hour  depended  upon  play,  and  was  indeed 
very  uncertain  ;  but  his  supper  was  always  served  up 
with  the  greatest  elegance,  by  the  assistance  of  one  or 
two  servants,  who  were  excellent  caterers  and  good  at- 
tendants, but  understood  cheating  still  better. 

The  company,  at  these  little  entertainments,  was  not 
numerous,  but  select :  the  first  people  of  the  court  were 
commonly  of  the  party  ;  but  the  man,  who  of  all  others 
suited  him  best  on  these  occasions,  never  failed  to 
attend  :  that  was  the  celebrated  Saint  Evremond,  who 
with  great  exactness,  but  too  great  freedom,  had  written 
the  history  of  the  treaty  of  the  Pyrenees :  an  exile  like 
himself,  though  for  very  different  reasons. 

Happily  for  them  both,  fortune  had,  some  time  before 
the  arrival  of  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  brought  Saint 
Evremond  *  to  England,  after  he  had  had  leisure  to  re- 
pent in  Holland  of  the  beauties  of  that  famous  satire. 

*  Charles  de  St.  Denis,  Seigneur  de  Saint  Evremond,  was  born  at  St. 
Denis  le  Guast,  in  Lower  Normandy,  on  the  ist  of  April,  1613.  He 
was  educated  at  Paris,  with  a  view  to  the  profession  of  the  law  ;  but  he 
early  quitted  that  pursint,  and  went  into  the  army,  where  he  signalized 
himself  on  several  occasions.  At  the  time  of  the  Pyrenean  treaty,  he 
wrote  a  letter  censuring  the  conduct  of  Cardinal  Mazarin,  which  occa- 
sioned his  being  banished  France.  He  first  took  refuge  in  Holland  ; 
but,  in  1662,  he  removed  into  England,  where  he  continued,  with  a 
short  inter\-al,  during  the  rest  of  his  life.  In  1675,  the  Duchess  of 
Mazarin  came  to  reside  in  England  ;  and  with  her  St.  Evremond  passed 
much  of  his  time.  He  presers'e<l  his  health  and  checrfuhiess  to  a  very 
great  age,  and  died  9th  of  September,  1703,  aged  ninety  years,  five 
months,  aii<l  twenty  days.  His  biograjjher.  Monsieur  Des  Maizeaux, 
describes  liim  thus  :  "  M.  de  St.  Evremond  had  blue,  lively,  and  spark- 
ling e3-es,  a  large  forehead,  thick  e3-ebrows,  a  handsome  mouth,  and  a 
sneering  physiognomy.  Twenty  years  before  his  death  !i  wen  grew 
between  his  eyebrows,  which  in  time  increased  to  a  considerable  big- 
ness. He  once  designed  to  have  it  cut  off,  bvit  as  it  was  no  waj^s 
troublesome  to  him,  and  he  little  regarded  that  kind  of  deformity.  Dr. 
Le  Fevre  advised  him  to  let  it  alone,  lest  .such  an  operation  should  be 
attended  with  dangerous  symptoms  in  a  man  of  his  age.  He  would 
often  make  merry  with  himself  on  account  of  his  wen,  his  great 
leather  cap,  and  gray  hair,  which  he  chose  to  wear  rather  than  a 
periwig." 


128 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT, 


The  Chevalier  was  from  that  time  his  hero  :  they  had 
each  of  them  attained  to  all  the  advantages  which  a 
knowledge  of  the  world,  and  the  society  of  people  of 
fashion,  conld  add  to  the  improvement  of  good  natnral 
talents.  Saint  Evremond,  less  engaged  in  frivolous  pur- 
suits, frequently  gave  little  lectures  to  the  Chevalier, 
and  by  making  observations  upon  the  past,  endeavored 
to  set  him  right  for  the  present,  or  to  instruct  him  for 
the  future.  "You  are  now,"  said  he,  "in  the  most 
agreeable  way  of  life  a  man  of  your  temper  could  wish 
for  :  )-ou  are  the  delight  of  a  youthful,  sprightly,  and 
gallant  court  :  the  king  has  never  a  party  of  pleasure  to 
which  you  are  not  admitted.  You  play  from  morning  to 
night,  or,  to  speak  more  properly,  from  night  to  morn- 
ing, without  knowing  what  it  is  to  lose.  Far  from  los- 
ing the  money  you  brought  hither,  as  you  have  done  in 
other  places,  you  have  doubled  it,  trebled  it,  multiplied 
it  almost  beyond  your  wishes,  notwithstanding  the  ex- 
orbitant expenses  you  are  imperceptibly  led  into.  This, 
without  doubt,  is  the  most  desirable  situation  in  the 
world  :  stop  here.  Chevalier,  and  do  not  ruin  your  affairs 
by  returning  to  your  old  sins.  Avoid  love,  by  pursuing 
other  pleasures  :  love  has  never  been  favorable  to  you. 
You  are  sensible  how  much  gallantry  has  cost  you  ;  and 
every  person  here  is  not  so  well  acquainted  with  that 
matter  as  yourself  Play  boldly  :  entertain  the  court 
with  your  wit :  divert  the  king  by  your  ingenious  and 
entertaining  stories  ;  but  avoid  all  engagements  which 
can  deprive  you  of  this  merit,  and  make  you  forget  you 
are  a  stranger  and  an  exile  in  this  delightful  country. 

"  Fortune  may  grow  weary  of  befriending  you  at  play. 
What  would  have  become  of  you  if  your  last  misfortune 
had  happened  to  you  when  your  money  had  been  at  as 
low  an  ebb  as  I  have  known  it  ?  Attend  carefully  then 
to  this  necessary  deity,  and  renounce  the  other.  You 
will  be  missed  at  the  court  of  France  before  you  grow 
weary  of  this  ;  but  be  that  as  it  may,  lay  up  a  good  store 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


129 


of  money  :  when  a  man  is  rich  he  consoles  himself  for 
his  banishment.  I  know  yon  well,  my  dear  Chevalier  : 
if  yon  take  it  into  your  head  to  sednce  a  lady,  or  to  sup- 
jilant  a  lover,  yonr  gains  at  play  will  by  no  means  suffice 
for  presents  and  for  bribes  :  no,  let  play  be  as  productive 
to  you  as  it  can  be,  you  will  never  gain  so  much  by  it  as 
you  will  lose  by  love,  if  you  yield  to  it. 

"  You  are  in  possession  of  a  thousand  splendid  qualifi- 
cations which  distinguish  you  here  :  generous,  benevo- 
lent, elegant,  and  polite  ;  and  for  your  engaging  wit, 
inimitable.  Upon  a  strict  examination,  perhaps,  all  this 
would  not  be  found  literally  true ;  but  these  are  brilliant 
marks  ;  and  since  it  is  granted  that  you  possess  them,  do 
not  show  yourself  here  in  any  other  light :  for,  in  love, 
if  your  manner  of  paying  your  addresses  can  be  so  de- 
nominated, you  do  not  in  the  least  resemble  the  picture 
I  have  just  now  drawn." 

"  My  little  philosophical  monitor,"  said  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramniont,  "you  talk  here  as  if  you  were  the  Cato  of 
Normandy."  "Do  I  say  anything  untrue?"  replied 
Saint  Evremond  :  "  Is  it  not  a  fact,  that  as  soon  as  a 
woman  pleases  you,  your  first  care  is  to  find  out  whether 
.she  has  any  other  lover,  and  your  .second  how  to  plague 
her  ;  for  the  gaining  her  affection  is  the  last  thing  in  your 
thoughts.  You  seldom  engage  in  intrigues,  but  to  dis- 
turb the  happiness  of  others  :  a  mistress  who  has  no 
lovers  would  have  no  charms  for  you,  and  if  she  has,  she 
would  be  invaluable.  Do  not  all  the  places  through 
which  you  have  passed  furnish  me  with  a  thousand  ex- 
amples? Shall  I  mention  your  co//p  (fessai  at  Turin? 
the  trick  you  played  at  Fontainebleau,  where  }  ou  robbed 
the  Princess  Palatine's  courier  upon  the  highway?  and 
for  what  purpose  was  this  fine  exploit,  but  to  put  you  in 
possession  of  some  proofs  of  her  affection  for  another,  in 
order  to  give  her  uneasiness  and  confusion  by  reproaches 
and  menaces,  which  you  had  no  right  to  use  ? 

"  Who  but  yourself  ever  took  it  into  his  head  to  place 
9 


130  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


himself  in  ambush  upon  the  stairs,  to  disturb  a  man  in 
an  intrigue,  and  to  pull  him  back  by  the  leg  when  he 
was  half  way  up  to  his  mistress's  chamber?  yet  did  not 
you  use  your  friend,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  in  this 

manner,  when  he  was  stealing  at  night  to  ,  although 

you  were  not  in  the  least  his  rival  ?  How  many  spies 
did  not  you  send  out  after  d'Olonne?*  How  many 
tricks,  frauds,  and  persecutions,  did  you  not  practice  for 
the  Countess  de  Fiesque,  f  who  perhaps  might  have  been 
constant  to  you,  if  you  had  not  yourself  forced  her  to  be 
otherwise  ?  But,  to  conclude,  for  the  enumeration  of 
your  iniquities  would  be  endless,  give  me  leave  to  ask 
you  how  you  came  here?  Are  we  not  obliged  to  that 
same  evil  genius  of  yours,  which  rashly  inspired  you  to 
intermeddle  even  in  the  gallantries  of  your  prince  ? 
Show  some  discretion  then  on  this  point  here,  I  beseech 
you  ;  all  the  beauties  of  the  court  are  already  engaged  ; 
and  however  docile  the  English  may  be  with  respect  to 
their  wives,  they  can  by  no  means  bear  the  inconstancy 


*  Mademoiselle  de  la  Loupe,  who  is  mentioned  in  De  Retz's  Memoirs, 
vol.  iii.,  p.  95.  She  married  the  Count  d'Olonne,  and  became  famous 
for  her  gallantries,  of  which  the  Count  de  Bussi  speaks  so  much  in  his 
History  of  the  Aviours  of  the  Gauls.  Her  maiden  name  was  Catherine 
Henrietta  d'Angennes,  and  she  was  daughter  t©  Charles  d'Angennes, 
Lord  of  la  Loupe,  Baron  of  Amberville,  by  Mary  du  Ra3  iiier.  There 
is  a  long  character  of  her  by  St.  Evremoud,  in  his  works,  vol.  i.,  p.  17. 
The  same  writer,  mentioning  the  concern  of  some  ladies  for  the  death 
of  the  Duke  of  Candale,  says:  "But  his  true  mistress  (the  Coimtess 
d'Olonne)  made  herself  famous  by  the  excess  of  her  affliction,  and  had, 
in  my  opinion,  been  happy,  if  she  had  kept  it  on  to  the  last.  One 
amour  is  creditable  to  a  lady  ;  and  I  know  not  whether  it  be  not  more 
advantageous  to  their  reputation  than  never  to  have  been  in  love." — 
St.  Evrcniond' s  Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  24. 

t  This  lady  seems  to  have  been  the  wife  of  Count  de  Fiesque,  who  is 
mentioned  by  St.  Evremoud,  as  "  fruitful  in  military  chimeras  ;  who, 
besides  the  post  of  lieutenant-general,  which  he  had  at  Paris,  obtained 
a  particular  commission  for  the  beating  up  of  the  quarters,  and  other 
rash  and  sudden  exploits,  which  may  be  resolved  upon  whilst  one  is 
singing  the  air  of  La  Barre,  or  dancing  a  minuet." — St.  Evremoiid's 
Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  6.  The  count's  name  occurs  very  frequently  in  De 
Retz's  Memoirs. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  OKA!M!\rONT. 


131 


of  their  mistresses,  nor  patiently  snffer  the  advantages 
of  a  rival :  suffer  them  therefore  to  remain  in  tranquillity, 
and  do  not  gain  their  ill-will  for  no  purpose. 

"You  certainly  will  meet  with  no  success  with  such 
as  are  unmarried :  honorable  views,  and  good  landed 
property,  are  required  here ;  and  }-ou  possess  as  much  of 
the  one  as  the  other.  Every  country  has  its  customs  :  in 
Holland,  unmarried  ladies  are  of  easy  access,  and  of  ten- 
der dispositions  ;  but  as  soon  as  ever  they  are  married, 
they  become  like  so  many  Lucretias  :  in  France,  the 
women  are  great  coquettes  before  marriage,  and  still 
more  so  afterwards  ;  but  here  it  is  a  miracle  if  a  young 
lady  yields  to  any  proposal  but  that  of  matrimony  :  and 
I  do  not  believe  you  yet  so  destitute  of  grace  as  to  think 
of  that." 

Such  were  Saint  Evremond's  lectures  ;  but  they  were 
all  to  no  purpose  :  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  only 
attended  to  them  for  his  amusement ;  and  though  he  was 
sensible  of  the  truth  they  contained,  he  paid  little  regard 
to  them  :  in  fact,  being  weary  of  the  favors  of  fortune, 
he  had  just  resolved  to  pursue  those  of  love. 

Mrs.  jNIiddleton  was  the  first  whom  he  attacked :  she 
was  one  of  the  handsomest  women  in  town,  though  then 
little  known  at  court :  so  much  of  the  coquette  as  to  dis- 
courage no  one  ;  and  .so  great  was  her  desire  of  appear- 
ing magnificently,  that  she  was  ambitious  to  vie  with 
those  of  the  greatest  fortunes,  though  unable  to  support 
the  expense.  All  this  suited  the  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
mont ;  therefore,  without  trifling  away  his  time  in  use- 
less ceremonies,  he  applied  to  her  porter  for  admittance, 
and  chose  one  of  her  lovers  for  his  confidant. 

This  lover,  who  was  not  deficient  in  wit,  was  at  that 
time  a  Mr.  Jones,  afterwards  Earl  of  Ranelagh  :  *  what 

*  Richard,  the  first  Earl  of  Ranelagh,  was  member  of  the  English 
house  of  commons,  and  vice-treasurer  of  Ireland,  1674.  He  held  sev- 
eral offices  under  King  William  and  Queen  Anne,  and  died  5th  January-, 
1711.    Bishop  Burnet  says  :  "Lord  Ranelagh  was  a  young  man  of  great 


132 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


engaged  him  to  serve  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  was 
to  traverse  the  designs  of  a  most  dangerous  rival,  and  to 
relieve  himself  from  an  expense  which  began  to  lie  too 
heavy  upon  him.  In  both  respects  the  Chevalier  an- 
swered his  purpose. 

Immediately  spies  were  placed,  letters  and  presents 
flew  about :  he  was  received  as  well  as  he  could  wish  : 
he  was  permitted  to  ogle  :  he  was  even  ogled  again  ; 
but  this  was  all  :  he  found  that  the  fair  one  was  very 
willing  to  accept,  but  was  tardy  in  making  returns. 
This  induced  him,  without  giving  up  his  pretensions  to 
her,  to  seek  his  fortune  elsewhere. 

Among  the  queen's  maids  of  honor  there  was  one 
called  Warmestre  :  *  she  was  a  beauty  very  difiFerent 
from  the  other.  Mrs.  Middleton  f  was  well  made,  fair, 
and  delicate  ;  but  had  in  her  behavior  and  discourse 
something  precise  and  affected.  The  indolent  languish- 
ing airs  she  gave  herself  did  not  please  everybody  :  peo- 
ple grew  weary  of  those  sentiments  of  delicacy,  which 


parts,  and  as  great  vices  :  he  had  a  pleasantness  in  his  conversation 
that  took  much  with  the  king;  and  had  a  great  dexterity  in  business." 
—History  of  his  Oivfi  Times,  vol.  i.,  p.  373. 

*  Lord  Orford  observes,  that  there  is  a  family  of  the  name  of  War- 
minster settled  at  Worcester,  of  which  five  persons  are  interred  in  the 
cathedral.  One  of  them  was  dean  of  the  church,  and  his  epitaph  men- 
tions his  attachment  to  the  ro3-al  family.  Miss  Warminster,  however, 
was  probably  only  a  fictitious  name.  The  last  Earl  of  Arran,  who  lived 
only  a  short  time  after  the  period  these  transactions  are  supposed  to 
have  happened,  asserted  that  the  maid  of  honor  here  spoken  of  was 
Miss  Mary  Kirk,  sister  of  the  Countess  of  Oxford,  and  who,  three  years 
after  she  was  driven  from  court,  married  Sir  Thomas  Vernon,  under  the 
supposed  character  of  a  widow.  It  was  not  improbable  she  then 
assumed  the  name  of  Warminster.  In  the  year  1669,  the  following  is 
the  list  of  the  maids  of  honor  to  the  (jueen  : — i.  Mrs.  Simoua  Carew. 
2.  Mrs.  Catherine  Baiuton.  3.  Mrs.  Henrietta  Maria  Price.  4.  Mrs. 
Winifred  Wells.  The  lady  who  had  then  the  office  of  mother  of  the 
maids  was  Lady  Sauuderson. — See  Chainberlayne's  Anglice  NotiHa, 
1669,  p.  301. 

t  Mrs.  Jane  Middleton,  according  to  Mrs.  Granger,  was  a  woman  of 
small  fortune,  but  great  beauty.  Her  portrait  is  in  the  gallery  at 
Windsor. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


133 


she  endeavored  to  explain  without  understanding  them 
herself;  and  instead  of  entertaining  she  became  tire- 
some. In  these  attempts  she  gave  herself  so  much 
trouble,  that  she  made  the  company  uneasy,  and  her 
ambition  to  pass  for  a  wit,  only  established  her  the  repu- 
tation of  being  tiresome,  which  lasted  much  longer  than 
her  beauty. 

Miss  Warmestre  was  brown  :  she  had  no  shape  at  all, 
and  still  less  air  ;  but  she  had  a  very  lively  complexion, 
very  sparkling  eyes,  tempting  looks,  which  spared  noth- 
ing that  might  engage  a  lover,  and  promised  everything 
which  could  preserve  him.  In  the  end,  it  very  plainly 
appeared  that  her  consent  went  along  with  her  e)'es  to 
the  last  degree  of  indiscretion. 

It  was  between  these  two  goddesses  that  the  inclina- 
tions of  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  stood  wavering,  and 
between  whom  his  presents  were  divided.  Perfumed 
gloves,  pocket  looking-glasses,  elegant  boxes,  apricot 
paste,  essences,  and  other  small  wares  of  love,  arrived 
every  week  from  Paris,  with  some  new  suit  for  himself: 
but,  with  regard  to  more  solid  presents,  such  as  ear- 
rings, diamonds,  brilliants,  and  bright  guineas,  all  this 
was  to  be  met  with  of  the  best  sort  in  London,  and  the 
ladies  were  as  well  pleased  with  them  as  if  they  had  been 
brought  from  abroad. 

Miss  Stewart's*  beauty  began  at  this  time  to  be  cele- 


*  Frances,  Duchess  of  Richmond,  daughter  of  Walter  Stewart,  son  of 
Walter,  Baron  of  Blantyre,  and  wife  of  Charles  Stewart,  Duke  of  Rich- 
mond and  Lennox  :  a  lady  of  exquisite  beauty,  if  justly  re])resented  in 
a  puncheon  made  by  Roettiere,  his  majesty's  engraver  of  the  mint,  in 
order  to  strike  a  medal  of  her,  which  exhibits  the  finest  face  that  per- 
haps was  ever  seen.  The  king  was  supposed  to  be  desperately  in  love 
with  her  ;  and  it  beca:ne  common  discourse,  that  there  was  a  design  on 
foot  to  get  him  divorced  from  the  queen,  in  order  to  marry  this  lady. 
I/ord  Clarendon  was  thought  to  have  proinoted  the  match  with  the 
Duke  of  Richmond,  thereby  to  prevent  the  other  design,  which  he 
imagined  would  hurt  the  king's  character,  embroil  his  affairs  at  present, 
and  entail  all  the  evils  of  a  disputed  succession  on  the  nation.  Whether 


134  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


brated.  The  Countess  of  Castlemaine  perceived  that  the 
king  paid  attention  to  her  ;  but,  instead  of  being  alarmed 
at  it,  she  favored,  as  far  as  she  was  able,  this  new  inclina- 
tion, whether  from  an  indiscretion  common  to  all  those 
who  think  themselves  superior  to  the  rest  of  mankind,  or 
whether  she  designed,  by  this  pastime,  to  divert  the 
king's  attention  from  the  commerce  which  she  held  with 
Jermyn.  She  was  not  satisfied  with  appearing  without 
any  degree  of  uneasiness  at  a  preference  which  all  the 
court  began  to  remark  :  she  even  affected  to  make  Miss 
Stewart  her  favorite,  and  invited  her  to  all  the  entertain- 
ments she  made  for  the  king ;  and,  in  confidence  of  her 
own  charms,  with  the  greatest  indiscretion  she  often 
kept  her  to  sleep.  The  king,  who  seldom  neglected  to 
visit  the  countess  before  she  rose,  seldom  failed  likewise 
to  find  IMiss  Stewart  in  bed  with  her.  The  most  indif- 
ferent objects  have  charms  in  a  new  attachment  :  how- 
ever, the  imprudent  countess  was  not  jealous  of  this 
rival's  appearing  with  her  in  such  a  situation,  being 
confident,  that  whenever  she  thought  fit,  she  could  tri- 
umph over  all  the  advantages  which  these  opportunities 
could  afford  Miss  Stewart ;  but  she  was  quite  mistaken. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  took  notice  of  this  con- 
duct, without  being  able  to  comprehend  it ;  but,  as  he 

he  actually  encouraged  the  Duke  of  Richmond's  marriage  doth  not 
appear ;  but  it  is  certain  that  he  was  so  strougl}-  possessed  of  the 
king's  inclination  to  a  divorce,  that,  even  after  his  disgrace,  he  was 
persuaded  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  had  undertaken  to  carry  that 
matter  through  the  parliament.  It  is  certain  too  that  the  king  con- 
sidered him  as  the  chief  promoter  of  Miss  Stewart's  marriage,  and 
resented  it  in  the  highest  degree.  The  ceremony  took  place  privately, 
and  it  was  publicly  declared  in  April,  1667.  From  one  of  Sir  Robert 
Southwell's  dispatches,  dated  Lisbon,  December  y%,  1667,  it  appears 
that  the  report  of  the  queen's  intended  divorce  had  not  then  subsided 
in  her  native  country. — History  of  the  Revolutions  of  Portugal,  1740, 
p.  352.  The  duchess  became  a  widow  in  1672,  and  died  October  15, 
1702.  See  Burnetts  History,  Ludhnu's  Memoirs,  and  Carte's  Life  of 
the  Duke  of  Ormond.  A  figure  in  wax  of  this  duchess  is  still  to  be 
seen  in  Westminster-abbey. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


135 


was  attentive  to  the  inclinations  of  the  king,  he  began 
to  make  his  court  to  him,  by  enhancing  the  merit  of  this 
new  mistress.  Her  figure  was  more  showj*  than  engag- 
ing :  it  was  hardly  possible  for  a  woman  to  have  less  wit, 
or  more  beauty  :  all  her  features  were  fine  and  regular  ; 
but  her  shape  was  not  good  :  yet  she  was  slender,  straight 
enough,  and  taller  than  the  generality  of  women  :  she 
was  very  graceful,  danced  well,  and  spoke  French  better 
than  her  mother  tongue  :  she  was  well  bred,  and  pos- 
sessed, in  perfection,  that  air  of  dress  which  is  so  much 
admired,  and  which  cannot  be  attained,  imless  it  be 
taken  when  }-oung,  in  France.  While  her  charms  were 
gaining  ground  in  the  king's  heart,  the  Coinitess  of 
Castlemaine  amused  herself  in  the  gratification  of  all  her 
caprices. 

i\Irs.  Hyde  *  was  one  of  the  first  of  the  beauties  who 
were  prejudiced  with  a  blind  prepossession  in  favor  of 
Jermyn:  she  had  just  married  a  man  whom  she  loved:  by 
this  marriage  she  became  sister-in-law  to  the  duchess, 
brilliant  by  her  own  native  lustre,  and  full  of  pleasantry 
and  wit.  However,  she  was  of  opinion,  that  so  long  as 
she  was  not  talked  of  on  account  of  Jermyn,  all  her  other 
advantages  would  avail  nothing  for  her  glory:  it  was, 
therefore,  to  receive  this  finishing  stroke,  that  .she  re- 
solved to  throw  herself  into  his  arms. 

She  was  of  a  middle  size,  had  a  skin  of  a  dazzling 
whiteness,  fine  hands,  and  a  foot  surprisingly  beautiful, 
even  in  England:  long  custom  had  given  such  a  languish- 
ing tenderness  to  her  looks,  that  she  never  opened  her 
eyes  but  like  a  Chinese;  and,  when  she  ogled,  one  would 
have  thought  she  was  doing  something  else. 


*  Theodosia,  daughter  of  Arthur,  Lord  Capel,  first  wife  of  Ileury 
Hyde,  the  secoud  Earl  of  Clarendon. 

[There  was  another  Mrs.  Hyde — Mrs.  Laurence  Hyde  (a  brother  of 
Henry  Hyde) — a  woman  of  exemplary  virtue  ;  her  husband  was,  on 
the  death  of  Wilmot,  created  Earl  of  Rochester  aud  was  Lord  High 
Treasurer  under  James  II.] 


136 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Jermyn  accepted  of  her  at  first;  but,  being  soon  puzzled 
what  to  do  with  her,  he  thought  it  best  to  sacrifice  her 
to  Lady  Castlemaiue.  The  sacrifice  was  far  from  being 
displeasing  to  her;  it  was  much  to  her  glory  to  have  car- 
ried off  Jermyn  from  so  many  competitors ;  but  this  was 
of  no  consequence  in  the  end. 

Jacob  Hall  (the  famous  rope-dancer),*  was  at  that 
time  in  vogue  in  London;  his  strength  and  agility 
charmed  in  public,  even  to  a  wish  to  know  what  he  was 
in  private;  for  he  appeared,  in  his  tumbling  dress,  to  be 
quite  of  a  different  make,  and  to  have  limbs  very  differ- 
ent from  the  fortunate  Jermyn.  The  tumbler  did  not 
deceive  Lady  Castlemaine's  expectations,  if  report  may 
be  believed;  and  as  was  intimated  in  many  a  song,  much 
more  to  the  honor  of  the  rope-dancer  than  of  the  count- 
ess; but  she  despised  all  these  rumors,  and  only  appeared 
still  more  handsome. 

While  satire  thus  found  employment  at  her  cost,  there 
were  continual  contests  for  the  favors  of  another  beauty, 
who  was  not  much  more  niggardly  in  that  way  than  her- 
self ;  this  was  the  Countess  of  Shrewsbury. 

The  Earl  of  Arran,  who  had  been  one  of  her  first  ad- 
mirers, was  not  one  of  the  last  to  desert  her;  this  beauty, 
less  famous  for  her  conquests  than  for  the  misfortunes 


*  "There  was  a  symmetry  and  elegance,  as  well  as  strength  and  agil- 
ity, in  the  person  of  Jacob  Hall,  which  was  much  admired  by  the 
ladies,  who  regarded  him  as  a  due  composition  of  Hercules  and  Adonis. 
The  open-hearted  Duchess  of  Cleveland  was  said  to  have  been  in  love 
with  this  rope-dancer  and  Goodman  the  player  at  the  same  time.  Tlie 
former  received  a  salary  from  her  grace." — Grans:er,  vol.  ii.,  part  2,  p. 
461.  In  reference  to  the  connection  between  the  duchess  and  the  rope- 
dancer,  Mr.  Pope  introduced  the  following  lines  into  his  "Sober  Advice 
from  Horace  :  " 

"  Wiiat  pushed  poor  E  s  on  th'  imperial  whore  ? 

'Twas  but  to  be  where  Charles  had  been  before. 

The  fatal  steel  unjustly  was  apply'd. 

When  not  his  lust  offended,  but  his  pride  : 

Too  hard  a  penance  for  defeated  sin. 

Himself  shut  out,  and  Jacob  Hall  let  in." 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


137 


she  occasioned,  placed  her  greatest  merits  in  being  more 
capricious  than  any  other.  As  no  person  could  boast  of 
being  the  only  one  in  her  favor,  so  no  person  could  com- 
plain of  having  been  ill  received. 

Jerniyn  was  displeased  that  she  had  made  no  advances 
to  him,  without  considering  that  she  had  no  leisure  for 
it;  his  pride  was  offended;  but  the  attempt  which  he 
made  to  take  her  from  the  rest  of  her  lovers  was  very 
ill-advised. 

Thomas  Howard,  brother  to  the  Earl  of  Carlisle,*  was 
one  of  them;  there  was  not  a  braver,  nor  a  more  genteel 
man  in  England ;  and  though  he  was  of  a  modest 
demeanor,  and  his  manners  appeared  gentle  and  pacif- 
ic, no  person  was  more  spirited  nor  more  passionate. 
Lady  Shrewsbury,  inconsiderately  returning  the  first 
ogles  of  the  invincible  Jermyn,  did  not  at  all  make  her- 
self more  agreeable  to  Howard;  that,  however,  she  paid 
little  attention  to;  yet,  as  she  designed  to  keep  fair  with 
him,  she  consented  to  accept  an  entertainment  which  he 
had  often  proposed,  and  which  she  durst  no  longer 
refuse.  A  place  of  amusement,  called  Spring  Garden,  f 
was  fixed  upon  for  the  scene  of  this  entertainment. 

As  soon  as  the  party  was  settled,  Jermyn  was  pri- 
vately informed  of  it.  Howard  had  a  company  in  the 
reofiment  of  tjuards,  and  one  of  the  soldiers  of  his 
company  played  pretty  well  on  the  bagpipes;  this  soldier 
was  therefore  at  the  entertainment.  Jermyn  was  at  the 
garden  as  by  chance,  and  puffed  up  with  his  former  suc- 
cesses, lie  trusted  to  his  victorious  air  for  accomplishing 

*  Thomas  Howard,  fourth  son  of  Sir  William  Howard.  He  married 
Mary,  Duchess  of  Richmond,  daughter  of  George  Villiers,  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  and  died  1678. — See  Madame  Duiiois'  Memoirs  of  the 
English  Court,  8vo.,i7o8. 

t  This  place  appears,  from  the  description  of  its  situation  in  the  fol- 
lowing extract,  and  in  some  ancient  plans,  to  have  been  near  Charing- 
Cross,  probably  where  houses  are  now  built,  thouijh  still  retaining  the 
name  of  gardens.  Spring  Garden  is  the  scene  of  intrigue  in  many  of 
our  comedies  of  this  period. 


138 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


this  last  enterprise ;  he  no  sooner  appeared  on  the  walks, 
than  her  ladyship  showed  herself  upon  the  balcony. 

I  know  not  how  she  stood  affected  to  her  hero  ;  but 
Howard  did  not  fancy  him  much  ;  this  did  not  prevent 
his  coming  up  stairs  upon  the  first  sign  she  made  to  him; 
^  and  not  content  with  acting  the  petty  tyrant,  at  an  enter- 

tainment not  made  for  himself,  no  sooner  had  he  gained 
the  soft  looks  of  the  fair  one,  than  he  exhausted  all  his 
common-place,  and  all  his  stock  of  low  irony,  in  railing 
at  the  entertainment,  and  ridiculing  the  music. 

Howard  possessed  but  little  raillery,  and  still  less  pa- 
tience; three  times  was  the  banquet  on  the  point  of  being 
stained  with  blood;  but  three  times  did  he  suppress  his 
natural  impetuosity,  in  order  to  satisfy  his  resentment 
elsewhere  with  greater  freedom. 

Jermyn,  without  paying  the  least  attention  to  his  ill- 
humor,  pursued  his  point,  continued  talking  to  Lady 
Shrewsbury,  and  did  not  leave  her  until  the  repast  was 
ended. 

He  went  to  bed,  proud  of  this  triumph,  and  was  awa- 
kened next  morning  by  a  challenge.  He  took  for  his 
second  Giles  Rawlings,  a  man  of  intrigue  and  a  deep 
player.  Howard  took  Dillon,  who  was  dexterous  and 
brave,  much  of  a  gentleman,  and  unfortunately,  an  inti- 
mate friend  to  Rawlings. 

In  this  duel  fortune  did  not  side  with  the  votaries  of 
love  :  poor  Rawlings  was  left  stone  dead  ;  and  Jermyn, 
having  received  three  wounds,  was  carried  to  his  uncle's, 
with  very  little  signs  of  life. 

While  the  report  of  this  event  engaged  the  courtiers 
according  to  their  several  interests,  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammont  was  informed  by  Jones,  his  friend,  his  confi- 
dant, and  his  rival,  that  there  was  another  gentleman 
very  attentive  to  Mrs.  Middleton :  this  was  Montagu,  *  no 


*  Ralph  Montagu,  second  son  of  Edward,  Lord  Montagu.  He  took  a 
very  decided  part  in  the  prosecution  of  the  popish  plot,  in  1678;  but  on 
the  sacrifice  of  his  friend,  Lord  Russell,  he  retired  to  Moutpelier  during 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


very  dangerous  rival  on  account  of  his  person,  but  very 
much  to  be  feared  for  his  assiduity,  the  acuteness 
of  his  wit,  and  for  some  other  talents  which  are  of 
importance,  when  a  man  is  once  permitted  to  display 
them. 

There  needed  not  half  so  miich  to  bring  into  action  all 
the  Chevalier's  vivacity,  in  point  of  competition  :  vexa- 
tion awakened  in  him  whatever  expedients  the  desire  of 
revenge,  malice,  and  experience,  could  suggest,  for 
troubling  the  designs  of  a  rival,  and  tormenting  a  mis- 
tress. His  first  intention  was  to  return  her  letters,  and 
demand  his  presents,  before  he  began  to  tease  her  ;  hnt, 
rejecting  this  project,  as  too  weak  a  revenge  for  the  in- 
justice done  him,  he  was  upon  the  point  of  conspiring 
the  destruction  of  poor  Mrs.  Middleton,  when,  by  acci- 
dent, he  met  with  Miss  Hamilton.  From  this  moment 
ended  all  his  resentment  against  Mrs.  Middleton  and 
all  his  attachment  to  Miss  Warmestre:  no  longer  was  he 
inconstant:  no  longer  were  his  wishes  fluctuating:  this 
object  fixed  them  all  ;  and,  of  all  his  former  habits, 
none  remained,  except  uneasiness  and  jealousy. 

Here  his  first  care  was  to  please  ;  but  he  very  plainly 
saw,  that  to  succeed,  he  must  act  quite  in  a  different 
manner  to  that  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to. 

The  family  of  the  Hamiltous,  being  very  numerous, 
lived  in  a  large  and  commodious  house,  near  the  court: 
the  Duke  of  Ormond's  family  was  continually  with  them; 
and  here  persons  of  the  greatest  distinction  in  London 
constantly  met  :  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  was  here 
received  in  a  manner  agreeable  to  his  merit  and  quality, 
and  was  astonished  that  he  had  spent  so  much  time  in 


the  rest  of  King  Charles's  reign.  He  was  active  at  tlie  Revolution,  and 
soon  after  created  Viscount  Montheriner,  and  Earl  of  Montagu.  In 
1705  he  became  Marquis  of  Monthernier,  and  Duke  of  Montagu.  He 
married  the  widow  of  the  Duke  of  Northumberland  at  Paris.  He  died 
7th  March,  1709,  in  his  73d  year. 


140 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


other  places;  for,  after  having  made  this  acquaintance, 
he  was  desirous  of  no  otlier. 

All  the  world  agreed  that  Miss  Hamilton  *  was  worth)- 
of  the  most  ardent  and  sincere  affection  :  nobody  could 
boast  a  nobler  birth,  nothing  was  more  charming  than 
her  person. 


*  Elizabeth,  sister  of  the  author  of  these  Memoirs,  and  daughter  of 
Sir  George  Hamilton,  fourth  son  of  James,  the  first  Earl  of  Abercorn, 
by  Mary,  third  daughter  of  Thomas,  Viscount  Thurles,  eldest  son  of 
Walter,  eleventh  Earl  of  Ormond,  and  sister  to  James,  the  first  Duke 
of  Ormond.  She  married  Philibert,  Count  of  Grammont,  the  hero  of 
these  Memoirs,  by  whom  she  had  two  daughters. 


JACOr>  IIAIJ,, 


CHAPTER  VII. 


The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  never  satisfied  in  his 
amours,  was  fortunate  without  being  beloved,  and  be- 
came jealous  without  having  an  attachment. 

Mrs.  ]\Iiddleton,  as  we  have  said,  was  going  to  experi- 
ence what  methods  he  could  invent  to  torment,  after 
having  experienced  his  powers  of  pleasing. 

He  went  in  .search  of  her  to  the  queen's  drawing-room, 
where  there  was  a  ball ;  there  she  was  ;  but  fortunately 
for  her.  Miss  Hamilton  was  there  likewise.  It  had  so 
happened,  that  of  all  the  beautiful  women  at  court,  this 
was  the  lady  whom  he  had  least  seen,  and  whom  he  had 
heard  most  commended  ;  this,  therefore,  was  the  first 
time  that  he  had  a  close  view  of  her,  and  he  soon  found 
that  he  had  seen  nothing  at  court  before  this  instant;  he 
asked  her  some  questions,  to  which  she  replied  ;  as  long 
as  she  was  dancing,  his  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her  ;  and 
from  this  time  he  no  longer  resented  Mrs.  Middleton's 
conduct.  Miss  Hamilton  was  at  the  happy  age  when  the 
charms  of  the  fair  sex  begin  to  bloom  ;  she  had  the  finest 
shape,  the  loveliest  neck,  and  most  beautiful  arms  in  the 
world;  she  was  majestic  and  graceful  in  all  her  movements; 
and  she  was  the  original  after  which  all  the  ladies  copied 

(141) 


142 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


in  their  taste  and  air  of  dress.  Her  forehead  was  open, 
white,  and  smooth  ;  her  hair  was  well  set,  and  fell  with 
ease  into  that  natural  order  which  it  is  so  difiicult  to  imi- 
tate. Her  complexion  was  possessed  of  a  certain  fresh- 
ness, not  to  be  equalled  by  borrowed  colors  :  her  e}  es 
were  not  large,  but  they  were  lively,  and  capable  of  ex- 
pressing whatever  she  pleased  :  her  mouth  was  full  of 
graces,  and  her  contour  uncommonly  perfect  :  nor  was 
her  nose,  which  was  small,  delicate,  and  turned  up,  the 
least  ornament  of  so  lovely  a  face.  In  fine,  her  air,  her 
carriage,  and  the  numberless  graces  dispersed  over  her 
whole  person,  made  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  not 
doubt  but  that  she  was  possessed  of  every  other  qualifi- 
cation. Her  mind  was  a  proper  companion  for  such  a 
form:  she  did  not  endeavor  to  shine  in  conversation  by 
those  sprightly  sallies  which  only  puzzle  ;  and  with  still 
greater  care  she  avoided  that  affected  solemnity  in  her 
discourse,  which  produces  stupidity  ;  but,  without  any 
eagerness  to  talk,  she  just  said  what  she  ought,  and  no 
more.  She  had  an  admirable  discernment  in  distin- 
guishing between  solid  and  false  wit;  and  far  from  mak- 
ing an  ostentatious  display  of  her  abilities,  she  was 
reserved,  though  very  just  in  her  decisions  :  her  senti- 
ments were  always  noble,  and  even  lofty  to  the  highest 
extent  when  there  was  occasion  ;  nevertheless,  she  was 
less  prepossessed  with  her  own  merit  than  is  usually  the 
case  with  those  who  have  so  much.  Formed,  as  we  have 
described,  she  could  not  fail  of  commanding  love;  but  so 
far  was  she  from  courting  it,  that  she  was  scrupulously 
nice  with  respect  to  those  whose  merit  might  entitle 
them  to  form  any  pretensions  to  her. 

The  more  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  was  convinced 
of  these  truths,  the  more  did  he  endeavor  to  please  and 
engage  her  in  his  turn  ;  his  entertaining  wit,  his  con- 
versation, lively,  easy,  and  alwa}'S  distingiiished  by  nov- 
elty, constantly  gained  him  attention  ;  but  he  was  much 
embarrassed  to  find  that  presents,  which  so  easily  made 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


143 


their  way  in  his  fonncr  method  of  courtship,  were  no 
lonj^er  proper  in  the  mode  which,  for  the  future,  he  was 
obliged  to  pursue. 

He  had  an  old  valet-de-chambre,  called  Termes,  a  bold 
thief,  and  a  still  more  impudent  liar  :  he  used  to  send 
this  man  from  London  every  week,  on  the  commissions 
we  have  before  mentioned  ;  hut  after  the  disgrace  of  IVIrs. 
IVIiddleton,  and  the  adventure  of  INIiss  Wannestre,  Mr. 
Termes  was  only  employed  in  bringing  his  master's 
clothes  from  Paris,  and  he  did  not  always  acquit  himself 
with  the  greatest  fidelity  in  that  employment,  as  will 
appear  hereafter. 

The  queen  was  a  woman  of  sense,  and  used  all  her  en- 
deavors to  please  the  king,  by  that  kind,  obliging  be- 
havior which  her  affection  made  natural  to  her:  she  was 
particularly  attentive  in  promoting  every  sort  of  pleasure 
and  amusement,  especially  such  as  she  could  be  present 
at  herself 

She  had  contrived,  for  this  purpose,  a  splendid  mas- 
querade, where  those,  whom  she  appointed  to  dance,  had 
to  represent  different  nations  ;  she  allowed  some  time  for 
preparation,  during  which  we  may  suppose  the  tailors, 
the  mantua-makers,  and  embroiderers,  were  not  idle  :  nor 
were  the  beauties,  who  were  to  be  there,  less  anxiously 
employed  ;  however.  Miss  Hamilton  foinid  time  enough 
to  invent  two  or  three  little  tricks,  in  a  conjuncture  so 
favorable,  for  turning  into  ridicule  the  vain  fools  of  the 
court.  There  were  two  who  were  very  eminently  such  : 
the  one  was  Lady  Muskerry,  *  who  had  married  her 


*  Lady  Margaret,  only  child  of  Ulick,  fifth  Earl  of  Clanricade,  by 
Lady  Anne  Conipton,  daughter  of  William,  Earl  of  Northampton.  She 
was  three  times  married  : — i.  To  Charles,  Lord  Viscount  Muskerry, 
who  lost  his  life  in  the  great  sea-fight  with  the  Dutch,  3d  June,  1665. 
2.  In  1676,  to  Robert  Villiers,  called  Viscount  Purbeck,  who  died  in 
1685.  3.  To  Robert  Fielding,  Esq.  >She  died  in  August,  1698.  Lord 
Orford,  by  mistake,  calls  her  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Kil- 
dare. — See  Note  on  vol.  ii.,  p.  210. 


144  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


cousiu-german  ;  and  the  other  a  maid  of  honor  to  the 
Dnchess,  called  Blague.* 

The  first,  whose  husband  most  assuredly  never  mar- 
ried her  for  beaiity,  was  made  like  the  generality  of  rich 
heiresses,  to  whom  just  nature  seems  sparing  of  her 
gifts,  in  proportion  as  they  are  loaded  with  those  of  for- 
tune :  she  had  the  shape  of  a  woman  big  with  child, 
without  being  so  ;  but  had  a  very  good  reason  for  limp- 
ing ;  for,  of  two  legs  uncommonly  short,  one  was  much 
shorter  than  the  other.  A  face  suitable  to  this  descrip- 
tion gave  the  finishing  stroke  to  this  disagreeable  figure. 

Miss  Blague  was  another  species  of  ridicule  :  her  shape 
was  neither  good  nor  bad  :  her  countenance  bore  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  greatest  insipidity,  and  her  complexion 
was  the  same  all  over  ;  with  two  little  hollow  eyes, 
adorned  with  white  eyelashes,  as  long  as  one's  finger. 
With  these  attractions  she  placed  herself  in  ambuscade 
to  surprise  unwary  hearts  ;  but  she  might  have  done  so 
in  vain,  had  it  not  been  for  the  arrival  of  the  Marquis  de 
Brisacier.  Heaven  seemed  to  have  made  them  for  each 
other  :  he  had  in  his  person  and  manners  every  requisite 
to  dazzle  a  creature  of  her  character :  he  talked  eternally, 


*  It  appears,  by  Cliatiihcrlayue's  Anglia"  Notitia,  1669,  that  this  lafl3% 
or  perhaps  her  sister,  continued  one  of  the  duchess's  maids  of  honor  at 
that  period.  The  Hst,  at  that  time,  was  as  follows  : — i.  Mrs.  Arabella 
Churchill.  2.  Mrs.  Dorothy  Howard.  3.  Mrs.  Anne  Ogle.  4.  Mrs. 
Mary  Blague.  The  mother  of  the  maids  then  was  Mrs.  Lucy  Wise. 
Miss  Blague  performed  the  part  of  Diana,  in  Crown's  Calisto,  acted  at 
court  in  1675,  and  was  then  styled  late  maid  of  honor  to  the  queen.  Lord 
Orford,  however,  it  should  be  observed,  calls  her  Henrietta  Maria,  daugh- 
ter of  Colonel  Blague.  It  appears  she  became  the  wife  of  Sir  Thomas 
Yarborough,  of  vSnaith,  in  Yorkshire.  vShe  was  also,  he  says,  sister  of 
the  wife  of  Sydnej',  Lord  Godolphin.  That  nobleman  married,  accord- 
ing to  Collins,  in  his  peerage,  Margaret,  at  that  time  maid  of  honor  to 
Katherine,  Queen  of  England,  fourth  daughter,  and  one  of  the  co-heirs 
of  Thomas  Blague,  Esq.,  groom  of  the  bedchamber  to  Charles  I.  and 
Charles  II.,  colonel  of  a  regiment  of  foot,  and  governor  of  Wallingford 
during  the  civil  wars,  and  governor  of  Yarmouth  and  Lauguard  Fort 
after  the  Restoration. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT.  145 

without  saying  anything,  and  in  his  dress  exceeded  the 
most  extravagant  fashions.  Miss  Blague  believed  that 
all  this  finery  was  on  her  account ;  and  the  Marquis  be- 
lieved that  her  long  eyelashes  had  never  taken  aim  at 
any  but  himself :  everybody  perceived  their  inclination 
for  each  other  ;  but  they  had  only  conversed  by  mute 
interpreters,  when  Miss  Hamilton  took  it  into  her  head 
to  intermeddle  in  their  affairs. 

She  was  willing  to  do  everything  in  order,  and  there- 
fore began  with  her  cousin  Muskerry,  on  account  of  her 
rank.  Her  two  darling  foibles  were  dress  and  dancing. 
Magnificence  of  dress  was  intolerable  with  her  figure  ; 
and  though  her  dancing  was  still  more  insupportable, 
she  never  missed  a  ball  at  court  :  and  the  queen  had  so 
much  complaisance  for  the  public,  as  always  to  make  her 
dance  ;  but  it  was  impossible  to  give  her  a  part  in  an 
entertainment  so  important  and  splendid  as  this  mas- 
querade :  however,  she  was  dying  with  impatience  for 
the  orders  she  expected. 

It  was  in  consequence  of  this  impatience,  of  which 
Miss  Hamilton  was  informed,  that  she  founded  the  de- 
sign of  diverting  herself  at  the  expense  of  this  silly 
woman.  The  queen  sent  notes  to  those  whom  she  ap- 
pointed to  be  present,  and  described  the  manner  in 
which  they  were  to  be  dressed.  Miss  Hamilton  wrote  a 
note  exactly  in  the  same  manner  to  Lady  Muskerry, 
with  directions  for  her  to  be  dressed  in  the  Babylonian 
fashion. 

She  assembled  her  counsel  to  advise  about  the  means 
of  sending  it :  this  cabinet  was  composed  of  one  of  her 
brothers  and  a  sister,  who  were  glad  to  divert  themselves 
at  the  expense  of  those  who  deserved  it.  After  having 
consulted  some  time,  they  at  last  resolved  upon  a  mode 
of  conveying  it  into  her  own  hands.  Lord  Muskerry 
was  just  going  out,  when  she  received  it :  he  was  a  man 
of  honor,  rather  serious,  very  severe,  and  a  mortal  enemy 
to  ridicule.  His  wife's  deformity  was  not  .so  intolerable 
10 


146 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


to  him,  as  the  ridiculous  figure  she  made  iipon  all  occa- 
sions. He  thought  that  he  was  safe  in  the  present  case, 
not  believing  that  the  queen  would  spoil  her  masquerade 
by  naming  Lady  jVIuskerry  as  one  of  the  dancers  ;  never- 
theless, as  he  was  acquainted  with  the  passion  his  wife 
had  to  expose  herself  in  public,  by  her  dress  and  danc- 
ing, he  had  just  been  ad^•ising  her  very  seriously  to  con- 
tent herself  with  being  a  spectator  of  this  entertainment, 
even  though  the  queen  should  have  the  cruelty  to  engage 
her  in  it  :  he  then  took  the  liberty  to  show  her  what 
little  similarity  there  was  between  her  figure  and  that 
of  persons  to  whom  dancing  and  magnificence  in  dress 
were  allowable.  His  sermon  concluded  at  last,  by  an 
express  prohibition  to  solicit  a  place  at  this  entertain- 
ment, which  they  had  no  thoughts  of  giving  her  ;  but 
far  from  taking  his  advice  in  good  part,  she  imagined 
that  he  was  the  only  person  who  had  prevented  the 
queen  from  doing  her  an  honor  she  so  ardently  desired  ; 
and  as  soon  as  he  was  gone  out,  her  design  was  to  go  and 
throw  herself  at  her  Majesty's  feet  to  demand  justice. 
She  was  in  this  very  disposition  when  she  received  the 
billet  :  three  times  did  she  kiss  it  ;  and  without  regard- 
ing her  husband's  injunctions,  she  immediately  got  into 
her  coach  in  order  to  get  information  of  the  merchants 
who  traded  to  the  Levant,  in  what  manner  the  ladies  of 
quality  dressed  in  Babylon. 

The  plot  laid  for  Miss  Blague  was  of  a  different  kind  : 
she  had  such  faith  in  her  charms,  and  was  so  confident 
of  their  effects,  that  she  could  believe  anything.  Brisa- 
cier,  whom  she  looked  upon  as  desperately  smitten,  had 
wit,  which  he  set  off"  with  common-place  talk,  and  with 
little  sonnets  :  he  sinig  out  of  tune  most  methodically, 
and  was  continually  exerting  one  or  other  of  these  happy 
talents  :  the  Diike  of  Buckingham  did  all  he  could  to 
spoil  him,  by  the  praises  he  bestowed  both  iipon  his 
voice  and  upon  his  wit. 

Miss  Blague,  who  hardly  understood  a  word  of  French, 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


147 


regulated  herself  upon  the  Duke's  authority,  in  admir- 
ing the  one  and  the  other.  It  was  remarked,  that  all 
the  words  which  he  sung  to  her  were  in  praise  of  fair 
women,  and  that  always  taking  this  to  herself,  she  cast 
down  her  eyes  in  acknowledgment  and  consciousness. 
It  was  upon  these  obser\-ations  they  resolved  to  make  a 
jest  of  her  the  first  oi^portunity. 

Whilst  these  little  projects  were  forming,  the  king, 
who  always  wished  to  oblige  the  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
niont,  asked  him  if  he  would  make  one  at  the  masquer- 
ade, on  condition  of  being  Miss  Hamilton's  partner? 
He  did  not  pretend  to  dance  sufficiently  well  for  an 
occasion  like  the  present  ;  yet  he  was  far  from  revising 
the  offer  :  "Sire,"  said  he,  "of  all  the  favors  you  have 
been  pleased  to  show  me,  siiice  my  arrival,  I  feel  this 
more  sensibly  than  any  other  ;  and  to  convince  you  of 
my  gratitude,  I  promise  you  all  the  good  offices  in  my 
power  with  Miss  Stewart."  He  said  this  because  they 
had  just  given  her  an  apartment  separate  from  the  rest 
of  the  maids  of  honor,  which  made  the  courtiers  begin 
to  pay  respect  to  her.  The  king  was  very  well  pleased 
at  this  pleasantry,  and  having  thanked  him  for  so  neces- 
sary an  offer:  "Monsieur  le  Chevalier,"  said  he,  "in 
what  style  do  you  intend  to  dress  yourself  for  the  ball? 
I  leave  you  the  choice  of  all  countries."  "  If  .so,"  said 
the  Chevalier,  "  I  will  dress  after  the  French  manner,  in 
order  to  disguise  myself ;  for  they  already  do  me  the 
honor  to  take  me  for  an  Englishman  in  your  city  of 
London.  Had  it  not  been  for  this,  I  should  have  wished 
to  have  appeared  as  a  Roman  ;  but  for  fear  of  embroiling 
myself  with  Prince  Rupert,*  who  so  warmly  espouses 


*  Grandson  of  James  the  First,  whose  actions  during  the  civil  wars 
are  well  known.  He  was  born  19th  December,  1619,  and  died  at  his 
house  in  Spring  Gardens,  November  22,  1682.  Lord  Clarendon  says 
of  him,  that  "  he  was  rough  and  passionate,  and  loved  not  debate: 
liked  what  was  proposed,  as  he  liked  the  persons  who  profKJsed  it ;  and 
was  so  great  an  enemy  to  Digby  and  Colepepper,  who  were  only  pres- 


148 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


the  interests  of  Alexander  against  Lord  Thanet,*  who 
declares  himself  for  Caesar,  I  dare  no  longer  think  of 
assuming  the  hero  :  nevertheless,  though  I  may  dance 
awkwardly,  yet,  hy  observing  the  tune,  and  with  a  little 
alertness,  I  hope  to  come  off  pretty  well  ;  besides,  Miss 
Hamilton  will  take  care  that  too  much  attention  shall 
not  be  paid  to  me.  As  for  my  dress,  I  shall  send  Termes 
off  to-morrow  morning  ;  and  if  I  do  not  show  you  at 
his  return  the  most  splendid  habit  }-ou  have  ever  seen, 
look  upon  mine  as  the  most  disgraced  nation  in  your 
masquerade. ' ' 

Termes  set  out  with  ample  instructions  on  the  subject 
of  his  journey  :  and  his  master,  redoubling  his  impa- 
tience on  an  occasion  like  the  present,  before  the  courier 
could  be  landed,  began  to  count  the  minutes  in  expecta- 
tion of  his  return  :  thus  was  he  employed  imtil  the  very 
eve  of  the  ball  ;  and  that  was  the  day  that  Miss  Hamil- 
ton and  her  little  society  had  fixed  for  the  execution  of 
their  project. 

Martial  gloves  were  then  very  much  in  fashion  :  she 
had  by  chance  several  pairs  of  them  :  she  sent  one  to 
Miss  Blague,  accompanied  with  four  yards  of  yellow 
riband,  the  palest  she  could  find,  to  which  she  added 
this  note  : 

"  You  were  the  other  day  more  charming  than  all  the 
fair  women  in  the  world  :  you  looked  yesterday  still 
more  fair  than  you  did  the  day  before  :  if  you  go  on, 
what  will  become  of  my  heart  ?  Biit  it  is  a  long  time 
since  that  has  been  a  prey  to  your  pretty  little  young 


eiit  in  the  debates  of  the  war  with  the  officers,  that  he  crossed  all  they 
proposed." — History  of  the  Rebellion,  vol.  ii.,  554.  He  is  supposed  to 
have  invented  the  art  of  mezzotinto. 

*  This  nobleman,  I  believe,  was  John  Tufton,  second  Earl  of  Thanet, 
who  died  6th  May,  1664.  Lord  Orford,  however,  imagines  him  to  have 
been  Nicholas  Tufton,  the  third  Earl  of  Thanet,  his  eldest  son,  who 
died  24th  November,  1679.  Both  these  noblemen  suffered  much  for 
their  loyalty. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


149 


Tm'ld  boar'' s  eyes.*  Shall  you  be  at  the  masquerade  to- 
morrow ?  But  cau  there  be  any  channs  at  au  entertain- 
ment at  which  you  are  not  present?  It  does  not  signify  : 
I  shall  know  you  in  whatever  disguise  you  may  be  :  but 
I  shall  be  better  informed  of  my  fate  by  the  present  I 
send  you  :  you  will  wear  knots  of  this  riband  in  your 
hair ;  and  these  gloves  will  kiss  the  most  beautiful 
hands  in  the  universe." 

This  billet,  with  the  present,  was  delivered  to  Miss 
Blague,  with  the  same  success  as  the  other  had  been 
conveyed  to  Lady  Muskerry.  Miss  Hamilton  had  just 
received  an  account  of  it,  when  the  latter  came  to  pay 
her  a  visit  :  something  seemed  to  possess  her  thoughts 
very  much  ;  when,  having  stayed  some  time,  her  cousin 
desired  her  to  walk  into  her  cabinet.  As  soon  as  they 
were,  there  :  "  I  desire  your  secrecy  for  what  I  am  going 
to  tell  you,"  said  Lady  Muskerry.  "  Do  not  you  won- 
der what  strange  creatures  men  are  ?  Do  not  trust  to 
them,  my  dear  cousin  :  my  Lord  IMuskerry,  who,  before 
our  marriage,  could  have  passed  whole  days  and  nights 
in  seeing  me  dance,  thinks  proper  now  to  forbid  me 
dancing,  and  says  it  does  not  become  me.  This  is  not 
all  :  he  has  so  often  rung  in  my  ears  the  subject  of 
this  masquerade,  that  I  am  obliged  to  hide  from  him 
the  honor  the  queen  has  done  me  in  inviting  me  to  it. 
However,  I  am  surprised  I  am  not  informed  who  is  to 
be  my  partner  :  but  if  you  knew  what  a  plague  it  is 
to  find  out,  in  this  cursed  town,  in  what  manner  the 
people  of  Babylon  dress,  you  would  pity  me  for  what 
I  have  suffered  since  the  time  I  have  been  appointed  : 
besides,  the  cost  which  it  puts  me  to  is  beyond  all 
imagination." 

Here  it  was  that  Miss  Hamilton's  inclination  to  laugh, 

*  Marcassin  is  French  for  a  wild  boar :  the  eyes  of  this  creature  being 
remarkably  small  and  lively,  from  thence  the  French  say,  "  Des  yeux 
marcassins,"  to  signify  little,  though  roguish  eyes  ;  or,  as  we  say,  pigs' 
eyes. 


150  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


which  had  increased  in  proportion  as  she  endeavored  to 
suppress  it,  at  length  overcame  her,  and  broke  out  in 
an  immoderate  fit  :  Lady  Muskerry  took  it  in  good  hu- 
mor, not  doubting  but  it  was  the  fantastical  conduct  of 
her  husband  that  she  was  laughing  at.  Miss  Hamilton 
told  her  that  all  husbands  were  much  the  same,  and 
that  one  ought  not  to  be  concerned  at  their  whims  ;  that 
she  did  not  know  who  was  to  be  her  partner  at  the  mas- 
querade ;  but  that,  as  she  was  named,  the  gentleman 
named  with  her  would  certainly  not  fail  to  attend  her  ; 
although  she  could  not  comprehend  why  he  had  not  yet 
declared  himself,  unless  he  likewise  had  some  fantasti- 
cal spouse,  who  had  forbid  him  to  dance. 

This  conversation  being  finished.  Lady  Muskerry  went 
away  in  great  haste,  to  endeavor  to  learn  some  news  of 
her  partner.  Those  who  were  accomplices  in  the  plot 
were  laughing  very  heartily  at  this  visit,  when  Lord 
Muskerry  paid  them  one  in  his  turn,  and  taking  INIiss 
Hamilton  aside:  "Do  you  know,"  said  he,  "whether 
there  is  to  be  any  ball  in  the  city  to-morrow  ?  "  "  No," 
said  she;  "but  why  do  you  ask?"  "Because,"  said 
he,  "  I  am  informed  that  my  wife  is  making  great  prep- 
arations of  dress.  I  know  very  well  she  is  not  to  be 
at  the  masquerade  :  that  I  have  taken  care  of ;  but  as  the 
devil  is  in  her  for  dancing,  I  am  very  much  afraid  that 
she  will  be  affording  some  fresh  subject  for  ridicule,  not- 
withstanding all  my  precautions  :  however,  if  it  was 
amongst  the  citizens  at  some  private  party,  I  should  not 
much  mind  it." 

They  satisfied  him  as  well  as  they  could,  and  having 
dismissed  him,  under  pretence  of  a  thousand  things  they 
had  to  prepare  for  the  next  day.  Miss  Hamilton  thought 
herself  at  liberty  for  that  morning,  when  in  came  Miss 
Price,  one  of  the  maids  of  honor  to  the  Duchess.*  This 


*  Our  author's  memory  here  fails  him  :  Miss  Price  was  maid  of  honor 
to  the  queen.    Mr.  Granger  says,  "there  was  a  Lady  Price,  a  fine 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


151 


was  just  what  she  was  wishing  for  :  This  lady  and  Miss 
Blague  had  been  at  variance  some  time,  on  account  of 
Duncan,*  whom  Miss  Price  had  drawn  away  from  the 
other ;  and  hatred  still  subsisted  between  these  two 
divinities. 

Though  the  maids  of  honor  were  not  nominated  for 
the  masquerade,  yet  they  were  to  assist  at  it ;  and,  con- 
sequently, were  to  neglect  nothing  to  set  themselves  off 
to  advantage.  Miss  Hamilton  liad  still  another  pair  ot 
gloves  of  the  same  sort  as  those  she  had  sent  to  Miss 
Blague,  which  she  made  a  present  of  to  her  rival,  with 
a  few  knots  of  the  same  riband,  which  appeared  to 
have  been  made  on  purpose  for  her,  brown  as  she  was. 
Miss  Price  returned  her  a  thousand  thanks,  and  promised 
to  do  herself  the  honor  of  wearing  them  at  the  ball. 
"  You  will  oblige  me  if  you  do,"  said  Miss  Hamilton, 
"but  if  you  mention  that  such  a  trifle  as  this  comes  from 
me,  I  shall  never  forgive  you  ;  but,"  continued  she,  "do 
not  go  and  rob  poor  Miss  Blague  of  the  ]\Iarquis  Brisacier, 
as  you  already  have  of  Duncan  :  I  know  very  well  that 
it  is  wholly  in  your  power  :  you  have  wit :  you  speak 
French  :  and  were  he  once  to  converse  with  you  ever  so 
little  the  other  could  have  no  pretensions  to  him."  This 
was  enough  :  Miss  Blague  was  only  ridiculous  and  co- 
quettish :  Miss  Price  was  ridiculous,  coquettish,  and 
something  else  besides. 

The  day  being  come,  the  court,  more  splendid  than 
ever,  exhibited  all  its  magnificence  at  this  masquerade. 
The  company  were  all  met  except  the  Chevalier  de 


woman,  who  was  daughter  of  Sir  Edmond  Warcup,  concerniug  whom 
see  Wood's  Fasti  O.x  oii,  ii.,  184.  Her  father  had  the  vanity  to  think 
that  Charles  II.  would  marry  her,  though  he  had  then  a  queen.  There 
were  letters  of  his  wherein  he  mentioned,  that  "his  daughter  was  one 
night  and  t'other  with  the  king,  and  verj'  graciouslj-  received  by  him." 
— History  of  England,  vol.  iv.,  p.  33.8. 

*  I  believe  this  name  shoidd  be  written  Dongan.  Lord  Orford  says, 
of  this  house  were  the  ancient  Earls  of  Limerick. 


152 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Grammont:  everybody  was  astonished  that  he  should  be 
one  of  the  last  at  such  a  time,  as  his  readiness  was  so 
remarkable  on  every  occasion  ;  but  they  were  still  more 
surprised  to  see  him  at  length  appear  in  an  ordinary 
court  dress,  which  he  had  worn  before.  The  thing  was 
preposterous  on  such  an  occasion,  and  very  extraordinary 
with  respect  to  him:  in  vain  had  he  the  finest  point-lace, 
with  the  largest  and  best  powdered  peruke  imaginable  : 
his  dress,  magnificent  enough  for  any  other  purpose,  was 
not  at  all  proper  for  this  entertainment. 

The  king  immediately  took  notice  of  it:  "Chevalier," 
said  he,  "  Termes  is  not  arrived  then  ?  "  "  Pardon  me, 
sire,"  said  he,  "God  be  thanked!"  "Why  God  be 
thanked?"  said  the  king  ;  "has  anything  happened  to 
him  on  the  road  ?  "  "  Sire, ' '  said  the  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
mont, "this  is  the  history  of  my  dress,  and  of  Termes 
my  messenger. "  At  these  words  the  ball,  ready  to  begin, 
was  suspended:  the  dancers  making  a  circle  around  the 
Chevalier  de  Grammont,  he  continued  his  story  in  the 
following  manner. 

"  It  is  now  two  days  since  this  fellow  ought  to  have 
been  here,  according  to  my  orders  and  his  protesta- 
tions ;  you  may  judge  of  my  impatience  all  this  day, 
when  I  found  he  did  not  come:  at  last,  after  I  had  heart- 
ily cursed  him,  about  an  hour  ago  he  arrived,  splashed 
all  over  from  head  to  foot,  booted  up  to  the  waist,  and 
looking  is  if  he  had  been  excommunicated  :  '  Very  well, 
Mr.  Scoundrel,'  said  I,  'this  is  just  like  you,  you  must 
be  waited  for  to  the  very  last  minute,  and  it  is  a  miracle 
that  you  are  arrived  at  all.'  '  Yes,  faith,'  said  he,  '  it  is 
a  miracle.  You  are  always  grumbling  :  I  had  the  finest 
suit  in  the  world  made  for  you,  which  the  Duke  de 
Guise  himself  was  at  the  trouble  of  ordering.'  '  Gi\'e  it 
me  then,  scoundrel,'  said  I.  '  Sir,'  said  he,  '  if  I  did  not 
employ  a  dozen  embroiderers  upon  it,  who  did  nothing 
but  work  day  and  night,  I  am  a  rascal :  I  never  left  them 
one  moment.'    'And  where  is  it,  traitor?'  said  I:  'do 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


153 


not  stand  here  prating,  while  I  should  be  dressing.'  'I 
had,'  continued  he,  'packed  it  up,  made  it  tight,  and 
folded  it  in  such  a  manner,  that  all  the  rain  in  the  world 
could  never  have  been  able  to  reach  it  ;  and  I  rid  post, 
day  and  night,  knowing  your  impatience,  and  that  you 
were  not  to  be  trifled  with. '  '  But  where  is  it  ?  '  said  I. 
'Lost,  sir,'  said  he,  clasping  his  hands.  'How  !  lost,' 
said  I,  in  surprise.  '  Yes,  lost,  perished,  swallowed  up: 
what  can  I  sa}-  more  ? '  '  What !  was  the  packet  boat 
cast  away  then  ?  '  said  I.  '  Oh  !  indeed,  sir,  a  great  deal 
worse,  as  you  shall  see,'  answered  he:  'I  was  within  half 
a  league  of  Calais  yesterday  morning,  and  I  was  resolved 
to  go  by  the  seaside,  to  make  greater  haste  ;  biit,  indeed, 
they  say  very  true,  that  nothing  is  like  the  highwa}- ;  for 
I  got  into  a  quicksand,  where  I  sunk  up  to  the  chin.' 
'A  quicksand,'  said  I,  'near  Calais?'  'Yes,  sir,'  said 
he,  'and  such  a  quicksand  that,  the  devil  take  me,  if  they 
saw  anything  but  the  top  of  my  head  when  they  pulled 
me  out:  as  for  my  horse,  fifteen  men  could  scarce  get  him 
out;  but  the  portmanteau,  where  I  had  unfortunately  put 
your  clothes,  could  never  be  found  :  it  must  be  at  least  a 
league  under  ground.' 

"This,  sire,"  continued  the  Chevalier  de  Gramniont, 
"is  the  adventure,  and  the  relation  which  this  honest 
gentleman  has  given  me  of  it.  I  shotild  certainh-  have 
killed  him  but  I  was  afraid  of  making  Miss  Hamilton 
wait,  and  I  was  desirous  of  giving  your  Majesty  imme- 
diate advice  of  the  quicksand,  that  your  couriers  may 
take  care  to  avoid  it." 

The  king  was  ready  to  split  his  sides  with  laughing, 
when  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  resuming  the  discourse, 
"Apropos,  sire,"  said  he,  "I  had  forgot  to  tell  you, 
that,  to  increase  my  ill-humor,  I  was  stopped,  as  I  was 
getting  out  of  my  chair,  by  the  devil  of  a  phantom  in 
masquerade,  who  would  by  all  means  persuade  me  that 
the  queen  had  commanded  me  to  dance  with  her;  and  as 
I  excused  myself  with  the  least  rudeness  possible,  she 


154  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


charged  me  to  find  out  who  was  to  be  her  partner,  and 
desired  me  to  send  him  to  her  immediately :  so  that  yonr 
Majesty  will  do  well  to  give  orders  about  it  ;  for  she  has 
placed  herself  in  ambush  in  a  coach,  to  seize  upon  all 
those  who  pass  through  Whitehall.  However,  I  must 
tell  you,  that  it  is  worth  while  to  see  her  dress ;  for 
she  must  have  at  least  sixty  ells  of  gauze  and  silver  tis- 
sue about  her,  not  to  mention  a  sort  of  a  pyramid 
upon  her  head,  adorned  with  a  hundred  thousand 
baubles." 

This  last  account  surprised  all  the  assembly,  except 
those  who  had  a  share  in  the  plot.  The  queen  assured 
them  that  all  she  had  appointed  for  the  ball  were  pres- 
ent ;  and  the  king,  having  paused  some  minutes  :  "I 
bet,"  said  he,  "  that  it  is  the  Duchess  of  Newcastle."  * 
"And  I,"  said  Lord  Muskerry,  coming  up  to  Miss  Ham- 
ilton, "will  bet  it  is  another  fool  ;  for  I  am  very  much 
mistaken  if  it  is  not  my  wife." 

The  king  was  for  sending  to  know  who  it  was,  and  to 
bring  her  in:  Lord  Musketry  offered  himself  for  that  ser- 
vice, for  the  reason  already  mentioned  ;  and  it  was  very 
well  he  did  so.  Miss  Hamilton  was  not  sorry  for  this, 
knowing  very  well  that  he  was  not  mistaken  in  his  con- 
jecture; the  jest  would  have  gone  much  farther  than  she 
intended,  if  the  Princess  of  Babylon  had  appeared  in  all 
her  glory. 

*  This  fantastic  lady,  as  Lord  Orford  properly  calls  her,  was  the 
youngest  daughter  of  Sir  Charles  Lucas,  and  had  been  one  of  the  maids 
of  honor  to  Charles  the  First's  queen,  whom  she  attended  when  forced 
to  leave  England.  At  Paris  she  married  the  Duke  of  Newcastle, 
and  continued  in  exile  ■with  him  until  the  restoration.  After  her 
return  to  England,  she  lived  entirely  devoted  to  letters,  and  pub- 
lished many  volumes  of  plays,  poems,  letters,  etc.  She  died  in  1673, 
and  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey.  Lord  Orford  says,  there  is  a 
whole  length  of  this  duchess  at  Welbeck,  in  a  theatrical  dress,  which, 
tradition  says,  she  generally  wore.  She  had  always  a  maid  of  honor 
in  waiting  during  the  night,  who  was  often  called  up  to  register  the 
duchess's  conceptions.  These  were  all  of  a  literary  kind  ;  for  her  grace 
left  no  children. 


MEMOIRS  OV  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


155 


The  ball  was  not  very  well  executed,  if  one  may  be 
allowed  the  expression,  so  long  as  they  danced  only  slow 
dances;  and  yet  there  were  as  good  dancers,  and  as  beau- 
tiful women  in  this  assembly,  as  were  to  be  found  in  the 
whole  world :  but  as  their  number  was  not  great,  they 
left  the  French,  and  went  to  country  dances.  When 
they  had  danced  some  time,  the  king  thought  fit  to 
introduce  his  auxiliaries,  to  give  the  others  a  little 
respite  ;  the  queen's  and  the  duchess's  maids  of  honor 
were  therefore  called  in  to  dance  with  the  gentlemen. 

Then  it  was  that  they  were  at  leisure  to  take  notice  of 
Miss  Blague,  and  they  found  that  the  billet  they  had 
conveyed,  to  her  on  the  part  of  Brisacier  had  its  effect  : 
she  was  more  yellow  than  saffron  :  her  hair  was  stuffed 
with  the  citron-colored  riband,  which  she  had  put  there 
out  of  complaisance;  and,  to  inform  Brisacier  of  his  fate, 
she  raised  often  to  her  head  her  victorious  hands,  adorned 
with  the  gloves  we  have  before  mentioned  :  but,  if  they 
were  surprised  to  see  her  in  a  head-dress  that  made  her 
look  more  wan  than  ever,  she  was  very  differently  sur- 
prised to  see  Miss  Price  partake  with  her  in  every  par- 
ticular of  Brisacier's  present:  her  surprise  soon  turned  to 
jealousy;  for  her  rival  had  not  failed  to  join  in  conversa- 
tion with  him,  on  account  of  what  had  been  insiniiated 
to  her  the  evening  before;  nor  did  Brisacier  fail  to  return 
her  first  advances,  without  paying  the  least  attention  to 
the  fair  Blague,  nor  to  the  signs  which  she  was  torment- 
ing herself  to  make  him,  to  inform  him  of  his  happy 
destiny. 

Miss  Price  was  short  and  thick,  and  consequently  no 
dancer.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who  brought  Brisa- 
cier forward  as  often  as  he  could,  came  to  desire  him,  on 
the  part  of  the  king,  to  dance  with  Miss  Blague,  without 
knowing  what  was  then  passing  in  this  nymph's  heart : 
Brisacier  excused  himself,  on  account  of  the  contempt  he 
had  for  country  dances :  Miss  Blague  thought  that  it  was 
herself  that  he  despised  ;  and  seeing  that  he  was  engaged 


156 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


in  conversation  with  her  mortal  enemy,  she  began  to 
dance,  without  knowing  what  she  was  doing.  Though 
her  indignation  and  jealousy  were  sufficiently  remarkable 
to  divert  the  court,  none  but  Miss  Hamilton  and  her  ac- 
complices understood  the  joke  perfectly  :  their  pleasure 
was  quite  complete  ;  for  Lord  Muskerry  returned,  still 
more  confounded  at  the  vision,  of  which  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammont  had  given  the  description.  He  acquainted 
Miss  Hamilton  that  it  was  Lady  Muskerry  herself,  a 
thousand  times  more  ridiculoi;s  than  she  had  ever  been 
before,  and  that  he  had  had  an  immense  trouble  to  get 
her  home,  and  place  a  sentry  at  her  chamber  door. 

The  reader  may  think,  perhaps,  that  we  have  dwelt 
too  long  on  these  trifling  incidents  ;  perhaps  he  may  be 
right.    We  will  therefore  pass  to  others. 

Everything  favored  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  in  the 
new  passion  which  he  entertained:  he  was  not,  however, 
without  rivals;  but,  what  is  a  great  deal  more  extraordi- 
nary, he  was  without  uneasiness:  he  was  acquainted  with 
their  understandings,  and  no  stranger  to  Miss  Hamilton's 
way  of  thinking. 

Among  her  lovers,  the  most  considerable,  though  the 
least  professedly  so,  was  the  Duke  of  York :  it  was  in  vain 
for  him  to  conceal  it,  the  court  was  too  well  acquainted 
with  his  character  to  doubt  of  his  inclinations  for  her. 
He  did  not  think  it  proper  to  declare  such  sentiments  as 
were  not  fit  for  INIiss  Hamilton  to  hear ;  but  he  talked  to 
her  as  much  as  he  could,  and  ogled  her  with  great  assi- 
duity. As  hunting  was  his  favorite  diversion,  that  sport 
employed  him  one  part  of  the  day,  and  he  came  home 
generally  much  fatigued  ;  but  Miss  Hamilton's  presence 
revived  him,  when  he  found  her  either  with  the  queen 
or  the  duchess.  There  it  was  that,  not  daring  to  tell  her 
of  what  lay  heavy  on  his  heart,  he  entertained  her  with 
what  he  had  in  his  head;  telling  her  miracles  of  the  cun- 
ning of  foxes  and  the  mettle  of  horses ;  giving  her 
accounts  of  broken  legs  and  arms,  dislocated  shoulders, 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


157 


and  other  curious  and  entertaining  adventures;  after 
which,  his  eyes  told  her  the  rest,  till  such  time  as  sleep 
interrupted  their  conversation;  for  these  tender  interpre- 
ters could  not  help  sometimes  composing  themselves  in 
the  midst  of  their  ogling. 

The  duchess  was  not  at  all  alarmed  at  a  passion  which 
her  rival  was  far  from  thinking  sincere,  and  with  which 
she  used  to  divert  herself,  as  far  as  respect  would  admit 
her;  on  the  contrary,  as  her  highness  had  an  affection  and 
esteem  for  Aliss  Hamilton,  she  never  treated  her  more 
gracioiisly  than  on  the  present  occasion. 

The  two  Russells,  uncle*  and  nephew, f  were  two 
other  of  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont's  rivals  :  the  imcle 
was  full  seventy,  and  had  distinguished  himself  by  his 
courage  and  fidelity  in  the  civil  wars.  His  passions  and 
intentions,  with  regard  to  Miss  Hamilton,  appeared  both 
at  once  ;  but  his  magnificence  only  appeared  by  halves 
in  those  gallantries  which  love  inspires.  It  was  not  long 
since  the  fashion  of  high  crowned  hats  had  been  left  off", 
in  order  to  fall  into  the  other  extreme.  Old  Russell, 
amazed  at  so  terrible  a  change,  resolved  to  keep  a  me- 
dium, which  made  him  remarkable  :  he  was  still  more 
so,  by  his  constancy  for  cut  doublets,  which  he  sup- 
ported a  long  time  after  they  had  been  universally  sup- 
pressed ;  but,  what  was  more  surprising  than  all,  was  a 
certain  mixture  of  avarice  and  liberality,  constantly  at 
war  with  each  other,  ever  since  he  had  entered  the  list 
with  love. 

His  nephew  was  only  of  a  younger  brother's  family, 
but  was  considered  as  his  uncle's  heir;  and  though  he 


*  Russell,  third  sou  of  Francis,  the  fourth  Earl  of  Bedford,  and 
colonel  of  the  first  regiment  of  foot  guards.  He  died  unmarried,  in 
November,  1681. 

t  William,  eldest  son  of  Edward  Russell,  younger  brother  of  the 
above  John  Russell.  He  was  standard-bearer  to  Charles  II.,  and 
died  unmarried,  1674.  He  was  elder  brother  to  Russell,  Earl  of 
Orford. 


158 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


was  under  the  necessity  of  attending  to  his  uncle  for  an 
establishment,  and  still  more  so  of  humoring  him,  in 
order  to  get  his  estate,  he  could  not  avoid  his  fate.  IMrs. 
Middleton  showed  him  a  sufficient  degree  of  preference; 
but  her  favors  could  not  secure  him  from  the  charms  of 
Miss  Hamilton:  his  person  would  have  had  nothing  dis- 
agreeable in  it  if  he  had  but  left  it  to  nature  ;  but  he  v/as 
formal  in  all  his  actions,  and  silent  even  to  stupidity ; 
and  yet  rather  more  tiresome  when  he  did  speak. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  very  much  at  his  ease 
in  all  these  competitions,  engaged  himself  more  and 
more  in  his  passion,  without  forming  other  designs,  or 
conceiving  other  hopes,  than  to  render  himself  agree- 
able. Though  his  passion  was  openly  declared,  no  per- 
son at  court  regarded  it  otherwise  than  as  a  habit  of 
gallantry,  which  goes  no  farther  than  to  do  justice  to 
merit. 

His  monitor,  Saint  Evremond,  was  quite  of  a  different 
opinion  ;  and  finding,  that,  besides  an  immense  increase 
of  maqfuificence  and  assiduitv,  he  regretted  those  hours 
which  he  bestowed  on  play  ;  that  he  no  longer  sought 
after  those  long  and  agreeable  conversations  they  used 
to  have  together  ;  and  that  this  new  attachment  every- 
where robbed  him  of  himself : 

"Monsieur  le  Chevalier,"  said  he,  "methinks  that 
for  some  time  you  have  left  the  town  beauties  and  their 
lovers  in  perfect  repose  :  IVIrs.  INIiddleton  makes  fresh 
conquests  with  impunity,  and  wears  your  presents,  un- 
der your  nose,  without  your  taking  the  smallest  notice. 
Poor  Miss  Warmestre  has  been  very  quietly  brought  to 
bed  in  the  midst  of  the  court,  withoiit  your  having  even 
said  a  word  aboiit  it.  I  foresaw  it  plain  enough.  Mon- 
sieur le  Chevalier,  you  have  got  acquainted  with  Miss 
Hamilton,  and,  what  has  never  before  happened  to  }  ou, 
you  are  really  in  love  ;  but  let  us  consider  a  little  what 
may  be  the  consequence.  In  the  first  place,  then,  I  be- 
lieve, you  have  not  the  least  intention  of  seducing  her  : 


MEMOIR.S  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


159 


such  is  her  birth  and  merit,  that  if  you  were  in  posses- 
sion of  the  estate  and  title  of  your  family,  it  might  be 
excusable  in  }  ou  to  offer  yourself  iipon  honorable  terms, 
however  ridiculous  marriage  may  be  in  general  ;  for,  if 
you  only  wish  for  wit,  prudence,  and  the  treasures  of 
beaut)',  you  could  not  pay  )-our  addresses  to  a  more 
proper  person  :  but  for  you,  who  possess  only  a  very 
moderate  share  of  those  of  fortune,  you  cannot  pay  your 
addresses  more  improperh'. 

"For  your  brother  Toulongeon,  whose  disposition  I 
am  acquainted  with,  will  not  have  the  complaisance  to 
die,  to  favor  your  pretensions  :  but  suppose  you  had  a 
competent  fortune  for  you  both — and  that  is  supposing 
a  good  deal — are  you  acquainted  with  the  delicacy,  not 
to  say  capriciousness,  of  this  fair  one  about  such  an  en- 
gagement ?  Do  you  know  that  she  has  had  the  choice 
of  the  best  matches  in  England  ?  The  Duke  of  Rich- 
mond paid  his  addresses  to  her  first  ;  but  though  he  was 
in  love  with  her,  still  he  was  mercenary  :  however,  the 
king,  observing  that  want  of  fortune  was  the  only  im- 
pediment to  the  match,  took  that  article  upon  himself, 
out  of  regard  to  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  to  the  merit  and 
birth  of  Miss  Hamilton,  and  to  her  father's  services  ; 
but,  resenting  that  a  man,  who  pretended  to  be  in  love, 
should  bargain  like  a  merchant,  and  likewise  reflecting 
upon  his  character  in  the  world,  she  did  not  think  that 
being  Duchess  of  Richmond  was  a  sufficient  recompense 
for  the  danger  that  was  to  be  feared  from  a  brute  and  a 
debauchee. 

"Has  not  little  Jermyn,  notwithstandiLg  his  uncle's 
great  estate,  and  his  own  brilliant  reputation,  failed  in 
his  suit  to  her  ?  And  has  she  ever  so  much  as  vouch- 
safed to  look  at  Henry  Howard,*  who  is  upon  the  point 

*  This  was  Henrj'  Howard,  brother  to  Thomas,  Earl  of  Arundel,  who 
by  a  special  act  of  parliament,  in  1664,  was  restored  to  the  honors  of 
the  family,  forfeited  by  the  attainder  of  his  ancestor,  in  the  time  of 
Queeu  Elizabeth.    On  the  death  of  his  brother,  in  1667,  he  became 


160  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


of  being  the  first  duke  in  England,  and  who  is  already 
in  actual  possession  of  all  the  estates  of  the  house  of  Nor- 
folk ?  I  confess  that  he  is  a  clown,  but  what  other  lady 
in  all  England  would  not  have  dispensed  with  his  stu- 
pidity and  his  disagreeable  person  to  be  the  first  duchess 
in  the  kingdom,  with  twenty-five  thousand  a  year? 

"To  conclude,  Eord  Falmouth  has  told  me  himself, 
that  he  has  always  looked  upon  her  as  the  only  acqiiisi- 
tion  wanting  to  complete  his  happiness  :  but,  that  even 
at  the  height  of  the  splendor  of  his  fortune,  he  never  had 
had  the  assurance  to  open  his  sentiments  to  her ;  that  he 
either  felt  in  himself  too  nuich  weakness,  or  too  much 
pride,  to  be  satisfied  with  obtaining  her  solely  by  the 
persuasion  of  her  relations  ;  and  that,  thoiigh  the  first 
refusals  of  the  fair  on  such  occasions  are  not  much 
minded,  he  knew  with  what  an  air  she  had  received  the 
addresses  of  those  whose  persons  she  did  not  like.  After 
this,  Monsieur  le  Chevalier,  consider  what  method  you 
intend  to  pursue  :  for,  if  you  are  in  love,  the  passion  will 
still  increase,  and  the  greater  the  attachment,  the  less 
capable  will  you  be  of  making  those  serious  reflections 
that  are  now  in  your  power." 

"My  poor  philosopher,"  answered  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammont,  "you  understand  Latin  very  well,  you  can 
make  good  verses,  you  understand  the  coiirse,  and  are 
acquainted  with  the  nature  of  the  stars  in  the  firmament; 
but,  as  for  the  luminaries  of  the  terrestrial  globe,  you 
are  utterly  unacquainted  with  them  :  you  have  told  me 
nothing  about  Miss  Hamilton  but  what  the  king  told  me 
three  days  ago.  That  she  has  refused  the  savages  you 
have  mentioned  is  all  in  her  favor  :  if  she  had  admitted 
their  addresses,  I  would  have  had  nothing  to  say  to  her, 
though  I  love  her  to  distraction.  Attend  now  to  what  I 
am  going  to  say  :  I  am  resolved  to  marry  her,  and  I  will 


Duke  of  Norfolk,  and  died  January  ii,  1683-4,  at  his  house  in  Arundel 
street,  aged  55. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


161 


have  my  tutor  Saint  Evreiuond  himself  to  be  the  first 
man  to  commend  me  for  it.  As  for  an  establishment,  I 
shall  make  my  peace  with  the  king,  and  will  solicit  him 
to  make  her  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  bed-chamber  to  the 
queen  :  this  he  will  grant  me.  Toulongeon  will  die,  with- 
out my  assistance,*  and  notwithstanding  all  his  care  ;  and 
Miss  Hamilton  will  have  Semeat,t  with  the  Chevalier 
de  Grammont,  as  an  indemnification  for  the  Norfolks 
and  Richmonds.  Now,  have  you  anything  to  advance 
against  this  project?  For  I  will  bet  you  an  hundred 
louis  that  everything  will  happen  as  I  have  foretold  it." 

At  this  time  the  king's  attachment  to  Miss  Stewart 
was  so  public,  that  every  person  perceived,  that  if  she 
was  but  possessed  of  art,  she  might  become  as  absolute  a 
mistress  over  his  conduct  as  she  was  over  his  heart. 
This  was  a  fine  opportunity  for  those  who  had  experience 
and  ambition.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham  formed  the 
design  of  governing  her,  in  order  to  ingratiate  himself 
with  the  king  :  God  knows  what  a  governor  he  would 
have  been,  and  what  a  head  he  was  possessed  of,  to  guide 
another  ;  however,  he  was  the  properest  man  in  the 
world  to  insimiate  himself  with  Miss  Stewart  ;  she  was 
childish  in  her  behavior,  and  laughed  at  everything, 
and  her  taste  for  frivolous  amusements,  though  unaf- 
fected, was  only  allowable  in  a  girl  about  twelve  or  thir- 
teen years  old.  A  child,  however,  she  was,  in  every 
other  respect,  except  playing  with  a  doll  :  blind  man's 
buff  was  her  most  favorite  amusement:  she  was  building 
castles  of  cards,  while  the  deepest  play  was  going  on  in 
her  apartments,  where  you  saw  her  surrounded  by  eager 
courtiers,  who  handed  her  the  cards,  or  young  architects, 
who  endeavored  to  imitate  her. 


*  Count  de  Toulongeon  was  elder  brother  to  Count  Grammont,  who, 
by  his  death,  in  1679,  became,  according  to  St.  Evreinond,  on  that 
event,  one  of  the  richest  noblemen  at  Court. — See  S/.  Evremond' s 
Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  327. 

t  A  country  seat  belonging  to  the  family  of  the  Grammonts. 
11 


162 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


She  had,  however,  a  passion  for  music,  and  had  some 
taste  for  singing.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who 
built  the  finest  towers  of  cards  imaginable,  had  an  agree- 
.able  voice:  she  had  no  aversion  to  scandal:  and  the  duke 
was  both  the  father  and  the  mother  of  scandal ;  he  made 
songs,  and  invented  old  women's  stories,  with  which  she 
was  delighted;  but  his  particular  talent  consisted  in  turn- 
ing into  ridicule  whatever  was  ridiculous  in  other  people, 
and  in  taking  them  off,  even  in  their  presence,  without 
their  perceiving  it:  in  short,  he  knew  how  to  act  all  parts 
with  so  miich  grace  and  pleasantry,  that  it  was  difficult 
to  do  without  him,  when  he  had  a  mind  to  make  himself 
agreeable;  and  he  made  himself  so  necessary  to  I\Iiss 
Stewart's  amusement,  that  she  sent  all  over  the  town  to 
seek  for  him,  when  he  did  not  attend  the  king  to  her 
apartments. 

He  was  extremely  handsome,*  and  still  thought  hini- 


*  George  Villiers,  the  second  Duke  of  Buckingham,  was  born  30th 
January,  1627.  Lord  Orford  observes,  "When  this  extraordinary  man, 
with  the  figure  and  genius  of  Alcibiades,  could  equally  charm  the 
presbyterian  Fairfax  and  the  dissolute  Charles  ;  when  he  alike  ridiculed 
that  witty  king  and  his  solemn  chancellor ;  when  he  plotted  the  ruin 
of  his  country  with  a  cabal  of  bad  ministers,  or,  equally  unprincipled, 
supported  its  cause  with  bad  patriots, — one  laments  that  such  parts 
should  have  been  devoid  of  every  virtue  ;  but  when  Alcibiades  turns 
chemist  ;  when  he  is  a  real  bubble  and  a  visionary  miser  ;  when  ambi- 
tion is  but  a  frolic ;  when  the  worst  designs  are  for  the  foolisliest  ends, 
— contempt  extinguishes  all  reflection  on  his  character." 

"  The  portrait  of  this  duke  has  been  drawn  by  four  masterlj-  hands. 
Burnet  has  hewn  it  out  with  his  rough  chisel ;  Count  Hamilton  touched 
it  with  that  slight  delicacy  that  finishes  while  it  seems  but  to  sketch  ; 
Dryden  caught  the  living  likeness  ;  Pope  completed  the  historical  re- 
semblance."— Royal  Authors,  vol.  ii.,  p.  78. 

Of  these  four  portraits,  the  second  is  in  the  text ;  the  other  three  will 
complete  the  character  of  this  extraordinary  nobleman. 

Bishop  Burnet  says,  he  "  was  a  man  of  noble  presence.  He  had  a 
great  liveliness  of  wit,  and  a  peculiar  faculty  of  turning  all  things  into 
ridicule,  with  bold  figures,  and  natural  descriptions.  He  had  no  sort 
of  literature,  only  he  was  drawn  into  chemistry  ;  and  for  some  years 
he  thought  he  was  very  near  finding  the  philosopher's  stone,  which 
had  the  effect  that  attends  on  all  such  men  as  he  was,  when  they  are 


MEMOIRS  OF 


COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


163 


self  much  more  so  than  he  really  was:  althou.o;h  he  had  a 
great  deal  of  discermnent,  yet  his  vanity  made  him  mis- 


drawn  in,  to  lay  out  for  it.  He  had  no  principles  of  religion,  virtue,  or 
friendship : — pleasure,  frolic,  or  extravagant  diversion  was  all  that  he 
laid  to  heart.  He  was  true  to  nothing  ;  for  he  was  not  true  to  himself. 
He  had  no  steadiness  nor  conduct :  he  could  keep  no  secret,  nor  exe- 
cute any  design  without  spoiling  it.  He  could  never  fix  his  thoughts, 
nor  govern  his  estate,  though  then  the  greatest  in  England.  He  was 
bred  about  the  king,  and  for  man}'  years  he  had  a  great  ascendancy 
over  him  ;  but  he  spake  of  him  to  all  persons  with  that  contempt,  that 
at  last  he  drew  a  lasting  disgrace  upon  himself.  And  he  at  length 
ruined  both  body  and  mind,  fortune  and  reputation  equally.  The  mad- 
ness of  vice  appeared  in  his  person  in  very  eminent  instances  ;  since  at 
last  he  became  contemptible  and  poor,  sickly,  and  .sunk  in  his  parts, 
as  well  as  in  all  other  respects  ;  so  that  his  conversation  was  as  much 
avoided  as  ever  it  had  been  courted." — History  of  his  Own  Times,  vol. 
i.,  p.  137. 

Dryden's  character  of  him  is  in  these  lines  : 

"  In  the  first  rank  of  these  did  Zimri  stand  ; 
A  man  so  various,  that  he  seeni'd  to  be 
Not  one,  but  all  mankind's  epitome  : 
Stiff  in  opinions,  always  in  the  wrong  ; 
Was  everything  by  starts,  and  nothing  long. 
But,  in  the  course  of  one  revolving  moon, 
Was  chemist,  fiddler,  statesman,  and  buffoon  ; 
Then  all  for  women,  painting,  rhyming,  drinking, 
Besides  ten  thousand  freaks  that  died  in  thinking. 
Blest  madman,  who  could  everj-  hour  employ 
With  something  new  to  wish  or  to  enjo}' ! 
Railing  and  praising  were  his  usual  themes. 
And  both,  to  show  his  judgment,  in  extremes  ; 
So  over  violent,  or  over  civil. 
That  every  man  with  him  was  god  or  devil. 
In  squandering  wealth  was  his  peculiar  art ; 
Nothing  went  unrewarded  but  desert. 
Beggar'd  by  fools,  whom  still  he  found  too  late ; 
He  had  his  jest,  and  the}-  had  his  estate  : 
He  laugh'd  himself  from  court,  then  sought  relief 
By  forming  parties,  but  could  ne'er  be  chief; 
For,  spite  of  him,  the  weight  of  business  fell 
On  Absalom  and  wise  Ahitophel  : 
Thus  wicked  but  in  will,  of  means  bereft. 
He  left  not  faction,  but  of  that  was  left." 

Absalom  and  .  lliitophel. 


164  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


take  some  civilities  as  intended  for  his  person,  which 
were  only  bestowed  on  his  wit  and  droller\^  :  in  short, 
being  seduced  by  too  good  an  opinion  of  his  own  merit, 
he  forgot  his  first  project  and  his  Portuguese  mistress,  in 
order  to  pursue  a  fancy  in  which  he  mistook  himself; 
for  he  no  sooner  began  to  act  a  serious  part  with  Miss 
Stewart,  than  he  met  with  so  severe  a  repulse  that 
he  abandoned,  at  once,  all  his  designs  upon  her  :  how- 
ever, the  familiarity  she  had  procured  him  with  the  king, 
opened  the  way  to  those  favors  to  which  he  was  after- 
wards advanced. 

Lord  Arlington*  took  up  the  project  which  the  Duke 


Pope  describes  the  last  scene  of  this  nobleman's  life  in  these  lines  : 
"  In  the  worst  inn's  worst  room,  with  mat  half  hung, 
The  floors  of  plaster,  and  the  walls  of  dung, 
On  once  a  flock-bed,  but  repair'd  with  straw. 
With  tape-tied  curtains,  never  meant  to  draw ; 
The  George  and  Garter  dangling  from  that  bed, 
Where  tawdry  yellow  strove  with  dirty  red. 
Great  Villiers  lies  : — alas  !  how  chang'd  from  him, 
That  life  of  pleasure,  and  that  soul  of  whim  ! 
Gallant  and  gay,  in  Clieveden's  proud  alcove, 
The  bower  of  wanton  Shrewsbury  and  love  ; 
Or,  just  as  gay,  at  council,  in  a  ring 
Of  mimic'd  statesmen,  and  their  merry  king. 
No  wit,  to  flatter,  left  of  all  his  store  ! 
No  fool  to  laugh  at,  which  he  valued  more. 
There,  victor  of  his  health,  of  fortune,  friends. 
And  fame,  this  lord  of  useless  thousands  ends." 

Moral  Essays,  Epist.  iii.,  1.  299. 
He  died  i6th  April,  1688,  at  the  house  of  a  tenant,  at  Kirby  Moor 
Side,  near  Helmsley,  in  Yorkshire,  aged  61  years,  and  was  buried  in 
Westminster  Abbey. 

*  Henrj-  Bennet,  Earl  of  Arlington,  principal  secretary  of  state,  and 
lord  chamberlain  to  King  Charles  II.  :  a  nobleman  whose  practices, 
during  that  reign,  have  not  left  his  character  free  from  reproach.  Mr. 
Macpherson  says  of  him,  that  he  "supplied  the  place  of  extensive 
talents  by  an  artful  management  of  such  as  he  possessed.  Accom- 
modating in  his  principles,  and  easy  in  his  address,  he  pleased  when 
he  was  known  to  deceive  ;  and  his  manner  acquired  to  him  a  kind  of 
influence  where  he  commanded  no  respect.  He  was  little  calculated 
for  bold  measures,  on  account  of  his  natural  timidity  ;  and  that  defect 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


165 


of  Buckingham  had  abandoned,  and  endeavored  to  gain 
possession  of  the  mind  of  the  mistress,  in  order  to  govern 
the  master.  A  man  of  greater  merit  and  higher  birth 
than  himself  niight,  however,  have  been  satisfied  with 
the  fortune  he  had  already  acquired.  His  first  negotia- 
tions were  during  the  treaty  of  the  Pyrenees:  and  though 
he  was  ttnsuccessful  in  his  proceedings  for  his  employer, 
yet  he  did  not  altogether  lose  his  time  ;  for  he  perfectly 
acquired,  in  his  exterior,  the  serious  air  and  profound 
gra\'ity  of  the  Spaniards,  and  imitated  pretty  well  their 
tardiness  in  biisiness  :  he  had  a  scar  across  his  nose, 
which  was  covered  by  a  long  patch,  or  rather  by  a  small 
plaster,  in  form  of  a  lozenge. 

Scars  in  the  face  commonly  give  a  man  a  certain  fierce 
and  martial  air,  which  sets  him  off  to  advantage  ;  but  it 
was  quite  the  contrary  with  him,  and  this  remarkable 
plaster  so  well  suited  his  mysterious  looks,  that  it  seemed 
an  addition  to  his  gravity  and  self-sufficiency. 

Arlington,  under  the  mask  of  this  compound  counte- 
nance, where  great  earnestness  passed  for  business,  and 
impenetrable  stupidity  for  secrecy,  had  given  himself  the 
character  of  a  great  politician;  and  no  one  having  leisure 
to  examine  him,  he  was  taken  at  his  word,  and  had  been 
made  minister  and  secretary  of  state,  upon  the  credit  of 
his  own  importance. 

created  an  opinion  of  his  moderation  that  was  ascribed  to  \artue.  His 
facilit)-  to  adopt  new  measures  was  forgotten  in  his  readiness  to 
acknowledge  the  errors  of  the  old.  The  deficiency  of  his  integrity 
was  forgiven  in  the  decency  of  his  dishonesty.  Too  weak  not  to  be 
superstitious,  yet  possessing  too  much  sense  to  own  his  adherence  to  the 
church  of  Rome,  he  lived  a  protestant  in  his  outward  profession,  but 
he  died  a  catholic.  Timidity  was  the  chief  characteristic  of  his  mind  ; 
and  that  being  known,  he  was  even  commanded  by  cowards.  He 
was  the  man  of  the  least  genius  of  the  party  :  but  he  had  most 
experience  in  that  slow  and  constant  current  of  1)usiness,  which,  per- 
haps, suits  affairs  of  state  better  than  the  violent  exertions  of  men  of 
great  parts." — Original  Papers,  vol.  i.  Lord  .Arlington  died  July  28, 
16S5.  See  a  character  of  him  in  Sheffield,  Duke  of  Buckingham's 
Works. 


166 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


His  ambition  soaring  still  above  these  high  stations, 
after  having  provided  himself  with  a  great  number  of 
fine  maxims,  and  some  historical  anecdotes,  he  obtained 
an  audience  of  Miss  Stewart,  in  order  to  display  them;  at 
the  same  time  offering  her  his  most  humble  services,  and 
best  advice,  to  assist  her  in  conducting  herself  in  the  sit- 
uation to  which  it  had  pleased  God  and  her  virtue  to 
raise  her.  But  he  was  only  in  the  preface  of  his  speech, 
when  she  recollected  that  he  was  at  the  head  of  those 
whom  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  iised  to  mimic  ;  and  as 
his  presence  and  his  language  exactly  revived  the  ridicu- 
lous ideas  that  had  been  given  her  of  him,  she  could  not 
forbear  bursting  out  into  a  fit  of  laughter  in  his  face,  so 
much  the  more  violent  as  she  had  for  a  long  time  strug- 
gled to  suppress  it. 

The  minister  was  enraged  :  his  pride  became  his  post, 
and  his  punctilious  behavior  merited  all  the  ridicule  which 
could  be  attached  to  it:  he  quitted  her  abruptly,  with  all 
the  fine  advice  he  had  prepared  for  her,  and  was  almost 
tempted  to  carry  it  to  Lady  Castlemaine,  and  to  unite 
himself  with  her  interests  ;  or  immediately  to  quit  the 
court  party,  and  declaim  freely  in  parliament  against 
the  grievances  of  the  state,  and  particularly  to  propose 
an  act  to  forbid  the  keeping  of  mistresses  ;  but  his  pru- 
dence conquered  his  resentments ;  and  thinking  only 
how  to  enjoy  with  pleasure  the  blessings  of  fortune,  he 
sent  to  Holland  for  a  wife,*  in  order  to  complete  his 
felicity. 

Hamilton  was,  of  all  the  courtiers,  the  best  qualified 


*  This  lady  was  Isabella,  daughter  to  Lewis  de  Nassau,  Lord  Bever- 
waert,  son  to  Maurice,  Prince  of  Orange,  and  Count  Nassau.  By  her, 
Lord  Arlington  had  an  only  daughter,  named  Isabella,  who  married, 
August  I,  1672,  Henry,  Earl  of  Euston,  son  to  King  Charles  II.,  by 
Barbara,  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  created  afterwards  Duke  of  Grafton  ; 
and,  after  his  death,  to  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer,  Bart.  She  assisted  at  the 
coronation  of  King  George  I.,  as  Countess  of  Arlington,  in  her  own 
right,  and  died  February  7,  1722-3. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


167 


to  succeed  in  an  enterprise  in  which  the  Duke  of  Biick- 
iughaiii  and  Lord  Arlington  had  miscarried  :  he  was 
thinking  upon  it  ;  but  his  natural  coquetry  traversed  his 
intentions,  and  made  him  neglect  the  most  advantageous 
prospects  in  the  world,  in  order  unnecessarily  to  attend 
to  the  advances  and  allurements  thrown  out  to  him  by 
the  Countess  of  Chesterfield.  This  was  one  of  the  most 
agreeable  women  in  the  world  :  she  had  a  most  exquisite 
shape,  though  she  was  not  ver>'  tall ;  her  complexion 
was  extremely  fair,  with  all  the  expressive  charms  of  a 
brunette  ;  she  had  large  blue  eyes,  very  tempting  and 
alluring  ;  her  manners  were  engaging  ;  her  .wit  lively 
and  amusing  ;  but  her  heart,  ever  open  to  tender  senti- 
ments, was  neither  scrupulous  in  point  of  constancy, 
nor  nice  in  point  of  sincerity.  She  was  daughter  to  the 
Duke  of  Ormond,  *  and  Hamilton,  being  her  cousin- 
german,  they  might  be  as  much  as  they  pleased  in  each 
other's  company  without  being  particular  ;  but  as  .soon 
as  her  eyes  gave  him  some  encouragement,  he  enter- 
tained no  other  thoughts  than  how  to  please  her,  with- 
out considering  her  fickleness,  or  the  obstacles  he  had  to 
encounter.  His  intention,  which  we  mentioned  before, 
of  establishing  himself  in  the  confidence  of  Miss  Stewart 
no  longer  occupied  his  thoughts:  she  now  was  of  opinion 
that  she  was  capable  of  being  the  mistress  of  her  own 
conduct :  she  had  done  all  that  was  necessary  to  inflame 
the  king's  passions,  without  exposing  her  virtiie  by 
granting  the  last  favors;  but  the  eagerness  of  a  pa.ssionate 
lover,  blessed  with  favorable  opportvniities,  is  difficult 
to  withstand,  and  still  more  difficult  to  vanquish  ;  and 
Miss  Stewart's  virtue  was  almost  exhausted,  when  the 
queen  was  attacked  with  a  violent  fever,  which  soon 
reduced  her  to  extreme  danger. 


*  And  second  wife  of  the  Earl  of  Chesterfield.  She  survived  the  ad- 
ventures here  related  a  verj'  short  time,  dying  in  July,  1665,  at  the  age 
of  25  years. 


168 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Then  it  was  that  Miss  Stewart  was  greatly  pleased 
with  herself  for  the  resistance  she  had  made,  though  she 
had  paid  dearly  for  it  :  a  thousand  flattering  hopes  of 
greatness  and  glory  filled  her  heart,  and  the  additional 
respect  that  was  universally  paid  her  contributed  not  a 
little  to  increase  them.  The  queen  was  given  over  by 
her  physicians  :  *  the  few  Portuguese  women  that  had 
not  been  sent  back  to  their  own  country  filled  the  court 
with  doleful  cries  ;  and  the  good  nature  of  the  king  was 
much  affected  with  the  situation  in  which  he  saw  a 
princess,  whom,  though  he  did  not  love  her,  yet  he 
greatly  esteemed.  She  loved  him  tenderly,  and  think- 
ing that  it  was  the  last  time  she  should  ever  speak  to 
him,  she  told  him,  that  the  concern  he  showed  for  her 
death  was  enough  to  make  her  quit  life  with  regret ;  but 
that  not  possessing  charms  sufficient  to  merit  his  tender- 
ness, she  had  at  least  the  consolation  in  dying  to  give 
place  to  a  consort  who  might  be  more  worthy  of  it,  and 
to  whom  heaven,  perhaps,  might  grant  a  blessing  that 
had  been  refused  to  her.  At  these  words,  she  bathed  his 
hands  with  some  tears,  which  he  thought  would  be  her 
last  :  he  mingled  his  own  with  hers  ;  and  without  sup- 
posing she  would  take  him  at  his  word,  he  conjured  her 
to  live  for  his  sake.  She  had  never  yet  disobeyed  him  ; 
and,  however  dangerous  sudden  impulses  may  be,  when 
one  is  between  life  and  death,  this  transport  of  joy, 
which  might  have  proved  fatal  to  her,  saved  her  life, 
and  the  king's  wonderful  tenderness  had  an  effect  for 


*This  happened  in  October,  1663.  Lord  Arlington,  in  a  letter  to  the 
Duke  of  Ormond,  dated  the  17th  of  that  month,  says,  "the  condition 
of  the  queen  is  much  worse,  and  the  ph3-sicians  give  us  but  little  hopes 
of  her  recovery  ;  by  the  next  you  will  hear  she  is  either  in  a  fair  way 
to  it,  or  dead :  to-morrow  is  a  very  critical  day  with  her  :  God's  will  be 
done.  The  king  coming  to  see  her  this  morning,  she  told  him  she 
willingly  left  all  the  world  but  him  ;  which  hath  very  much  afflicted 
his  majesty,  and  all  the  court  with  him." — Brown's  Miscellanea 
Aulica,  1702,  p.  306. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


169 


which  every  person  did  not  thank  heaven  in  the  same 
manner. 

Jermyn  had  now  for  some  time  been  recovered  of  his 
wonnds:  however,  Lady  Castlemaiue,  finding  his  health 
in  as  deplorable  a  condition  as  ever,  resolved  to  regain 
the  king's  heart,  bnt  in  vain  :  for  notwithstanding  the 
softness  of  her  tears,  and  the  violence  of  her  passions. 
Miss  Stewart  wholly  possessed  it.  During  this  period 
the  court  was  variously  entertained  :  sometimes  there 
were  promenades,  and  at  others  the  court  beauties  sallied 
out  on  horseback,  and  to  make  attacks  with  their  charms 
and  graces,  sometimes  successfully,  sometimes  other- 
wise, but  always  to  the  best  of  their  abilities  :  at  other 
seasons  there  were  such  .shows  on  the  river  as  the  city 
of  London  alone  can  afford. 

The  Thames  washes  the  sides  of  a  large  though  not  a 
magnificent  palace  of  the  kings  of  Great  Britain  :  *  from 
the  stairs  of  this  palace  the  court  used  to  take  water  in 
the  summer  evenings,  when  the  heat  and  dust  prevented 
their  walking  in  the  park  :  an  infinite  number  of  open 
boats,  filled  with  the  court  and  city  beaiities,  attended 
the  barges,  in  which  were  the  Royal  Family  :  collations, 
music  and  fireworks,  completed  the  scene.  The  Cheva- 
lier de  Gramniont  always  made  one  of  the  company, 
and  it  was  very  seldonr  that  he  did  not  add  something 
of  his  own  invention,  agreeably  to  surprise  by  some  un- 
expected stroke  of  magnificence  and  gallantry.  Some- 
times he  had  complete  concerts  of  vocal  and  instrumental 
music,  which  he  privately  brought  from  Paris,  and  which 
struck  up  on  a  sudden  in  the  midst  of  these  parties  ; 
sometimes  he  gave  banquets,  which  likewise  came  from 
France,  and  which,  even  in  the  midst  of  London,  sur- 
passed the  king's  collations.  These  entertainments 
sometimes  exceeded,  as  others  fell  short  of  his  expecta- 


*  This  was  Whitehall,  which  was  burnt  down,  except  the  banqueting- 
house,  4th  Januarj-,  1698. — See  Harlcian  Miscellany,  vol.  vi.,  p.  367. 


170 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


tions,  but  they  always  cost  him  an  immense  deal  of 
money. 

Lord  Falmouth  was  one  of  those  who  had  the  greatest 
friendship  and  esteem  for  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont : 
this  profusion  gave  him  concern,  and  as  he  often  used  to 
go  and  sup  with  him  without  ceremony,  one  day  finding 
only  Saint  Evremond  there,  and  a  supper  fit  for  half  a 
dozen  guests,  who  had  been  invited  in  form:  "  Yoii  must 
not,"  said  he,  addressing  himself  to  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammont,  "be  obliged  to  me  for  this  visit.  I  come 
from  the  king's  coucher^  where  all  the  discourse  was 
aboiit  you  ;  and  I  can  assure  you  that  the  manner  in 
which  the  king  spoke  of  you,  could  not  afford  you  so 
much  pleasure  as  I  myself  felt  upon  the  occasion.  You 
know  very  well,  that  he  has  long  since  offered  you  his 
good  offices  with  the  King  of  France  ;  and  for  ni}-  ov/n 
part,"  continued  he,  smiling,  "  you  know  very  well  that 
I  would  solicit  him  so  to  do,  if  it  was  not  through  fear 
of  losing  you  as  soon  as  your  peace  is  made  ;  but,  thanks 
to  Miss  Hamilton,  you  are  in  no  great  haste  :  however, 
I  am  ordered  by  the  king,  my  master,  to  acquaint  you, 
that  while  you  remain  here,  until  you  are  restored  to  the 
-favor  of  your  sovereign,  he  presents  you  with  a  pension 
of  fifteen  hundred  Jacobus's  :  it  is  indeed  a  trifle,  con- 
sidering the  figure  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  makes 
among  us  ;  but  it  will  assist  him,"  said  he,  embracing 
him,  "  to  give  us  sometimes  a  supper." 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  received,  as  he  ought, 
the  offer  of  a  favor  he  did  not  think  proper  to  accept:  "I 
acknowledge,"  said  he,  "  the  king's  bounty  in  this  pro- 
posal, but  I  am  still  more  sensible  of  Lord  Falmouth's 
generosity  in  it ;  and  I  request  him  to  assure  his  Majesty 
of  my  perfect  gratitude  :  the  king,  my  master,  will  not 
suffer  me  to  want,  when  he  thinks  fit  to  recall  me  ;  and 
while  I  continue  here,  I  will  let  you  see  that  I  have 
wherewithal  to  give  my  English  friends  now  and  then  a 
supper. ' ' 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


171 


At  these  words,  lie  called  for  his  strong  box,  and 
showed  him  seven  or  eight  thousand  guineas  in  solid 
gold.  Lord  Falmouth,  willing  to  improve  to  the  Cheva- 
lier's advantage  the  refusal  of  so  advantageous  an  offer, 
gave  Monsieur  de  Comminge,  *  then  ambassador  at  the 
English  court,  an  account  of  it ;  nor  did  Monsieur  de 
Comminge  fail  to  represent  properly  the  merit  of  such  a 
refusal  to  the  French  court. 

Hyde  Park,  every  one  knows,  is  the  promenade  of 
London  :  f  nothing  was  so  much  in  fashion,  during  the 
fine  weather,  as  that  promenade,  which  was  the  rendez- 
vous of  magnificence  and  beaut}- :  every  one,  therefore, 
who  had  either  sparkling  eyes,  or  a  splendid  equipage, 
constantly  repaired  thither;  and  the  king  seemed  pleased 
with  the  place. 

Coaches  with  glasses  J  were  then  a  late  invention  :  the 


*This  gentleman  was  ambassador  in  London,  from  the  court  of 
France,  during  the  3'ears  1663,  1664,  and  1665.  Lord  Clarendon, 
speaking  of  him,  describes  him  as  something  capricious  in  his  nature, 
which  made  him  hard  to  treat  with,  and  not  always  vacant  at  the 
hours  himself  assigned ;  being  hypochondriac,  and  seldom  sleeping 
without  opium. — Continuation  of  Clarendon's  Life,  p.  263. 

t  The  writer  already  quoted  gives  this  description  of  the  entertain- 
ments of  the  place  at  this  period  : 

"I  did  frequently,  in  the  spring,  accompany  ni}-  lord  N  into  a 

field  near  the  town,  which  they  call  Hyde  Park  ;  the  place  is  not 
unpleasant,  and  which  thej'  use  as  our  course  ;  but  with  nothing  of 
that  order,  equipage,  and  splendor ;  being  such  an  assembly  of 
wretched  jades,  and  hackney  coaches,  as,  next  a  regiment  of  car- 
men, there  is  nothing  approaches  the  resemblance.  This  park  was 
(it  seems)  used  by  the  late  king  and  nobility  for  the  freshness  of  the 
air  and  the  goodly  prospect ;  but  it  is  that  which  now  (besides  all 
other  excises)  they  pay  for  here,  in  England,  though  it  be  free  in 
all  the  world  besides  ;  every  coach  and  horse  which  enters  buying  his 
mouthful,  and  permission  of  the  publican  who  has  purchased  it;  for 
which  the  entrance  is  guarded  with  porters  and  long  staves. — A  Char- 
acter of  lingland,  as  it  u'as  lately  presented  to  a  Xoltlenian  of  /■'ranee, 
i2mo.,  1659,  P-  54- 

X  Coaches  were  first  introduced  into  Ejigland  in  the  year  1564. 
Taylor,  the  water  poet  {Works,  1630,  p.  240),  says, — "One  \Villiam 
Boonen,  a  Dutchman,  brought  first  the  use  of  coaches  hither  ;  and  the 


172 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


ladies  were  afraid  of  being  shut  up  in  them:  they  greatly 
preferred  the  pleasure  of  showing  almost  their  whole 
persons,  to  the  conveniences  of  modern  coaches  :  that 
which  was  made  for  the  king  not  being  remarkable  for 
its  elegance,  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  was  of  opinion 
that  something  ingenioiis  might  be  invented,  which 
should  partake  of  the  ancient  fashion,  and  likewise  prove 
preferable  to  the  modern ;  he  therefore  sent  away  Termes 
privately  with  all  the  necessary  instn;ctions  to  Paris:  the 
Duke  of  Guise  was  likewise  charged  with  this  commission; 
and  the  courier,  having  by  the  favor  of  Providence 
escaped  the  quicksand,  in  a  month's  time  brought  safely 
over  to  England,  the  most  elegant  and  magnificent  calash 
that  had  ever  been  seen,  which  the  Chevalier  presented 
to  the  king. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  had  given  orders  that  fif- 
teen hundred  louis  should  be  expended  upon  it;  but  the 
Duke  of  Guise,  who  was  his  friend,  to  oblige  him,  laid 
out  two  thousand.  All  the  court  was  in  admiration  at 
the  magnificence  of  the  present ;  and  the  king,  charmed 
with  the  Chevalier's  attention  to  everything  which 
could  alford  him  pleasure,  failed  not  to  acknowledge  it : 
he  would  not,  however,  accept  a  present  of  so  much 
value,  but  upon  condition  that  the  Chevalier  should  not 
refuse  another  from  him. 

The  queen,  imagining  that  so  splendid  a  carriage 
might  prove  fortimate  for  her,  wished  to  appear  in  it  first. 


said  Boonen  was  Queen  Elizabeth's  coachman  ;  for,  indeed,  a  coach  was 
a  strange  monster  in  those  days,  and  the  sight  of  them  put  both  horse 
and  man  into  amazement."  Dr.  Percy  observes,  they  were  first  drawn 
by  two  horses,  and  that  it  was  the  favorite  Buckingham,  who,  about 
1619,  began  to  draw  it  with  six  horses.  About  the  same  time,  he  intro- 
duced the  sedan.  The  Ultimum  Vale  of  John  Carletoit,  4to.,  1663, 
p.  23,  will,  in  a  great  measure,  ascertain  the  time  of  the  introduction 
of  glass  coaches.  He  saj-s,  "I  could  wish  her  (/.  e.  Mary  Carleton's) 
coach  (which  she  said  my  lord  Taff  bought  for  her  in  England,  and  sent 
it  over  to  her,  made  of  the  tirrc  fashion,  with  f^lassr,  very  stately  ;  and 
her  pages  and  lacquies  were  of  the  same  livery)  was  come  for  me,"  etc. 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


173 


with  the  Duchess  of  York.  Lady  Castlemaine,  who  had 
seen  them  in  it,  thinking  that  it  set  off  a  fine  figure  to 
greater  advantage  than  any  other,  desired  the  king  to 
lend  her  this  wonderful  calash  to  appear  in  it  the  first 
fine  day  in  Hyde  Park:  Miss  Stewart  had  the  same  wish, 
and  requested  to  have  it  on  the  same  day.  As  it  was 
impossible  to  reconcile  these  two  goddesses,  whose  for- 
mer tmion  was  turned  into  mortal  hatred,  the  king  was 
very  much  perplexed. 

Lad}'  Castlemaine  was  with  child,  and  threatened  to 
miscarry,  if  her  rival  was  preferred  ;  Miss  Stewart 
threatened,  that  she  never  would  be  with  child,  if  her 
request  was  not  granted.  This  menace  prevailed,  and 
Lady  Castlemaine' s  rage  was  so  great,  that  she  had 
almost  kept  her  word;  and  it  was  believed  that  this 
triumph  cost  her  rival  some  of  her  innocence. 

The  queen  dowager,  who,  though  she  had  no  share  in 
these  broils,  had  no  objection  to  them,  and  as  usual  being 
diverted  with  this  circumstance,  she  took  occasion  to  joke 
with  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  for  having  thrown 
this  bone  of  contention  among  such  competitors  ;  and 
did  not  fail  to  give  him,  in  the  presence  of  the  whole 
court,  those  praises  which  so  magnificent  a  present 
deserved:  "But  how  comes  it,"  said  she,  "that  you  have 
no  eqiiipage  yourself,  though  you  are  at  so  great  an  ex- 
pense ?  for  I  am  told  that  you  do  not  keep  even  a  single 
footman,  and  that  one  of  the  common  runners  in  the 
streets  lights  you  home  with  a  stinking  link."  "  Mad- 
am," said  he,  "the  Chevalier  de  CTranunont  hates  pomp: 
my  link-boy,  of  whom  yon  speak,  is  faithful  to  my  ser- 
vice; and  besides,  he  is  one  of  the  bravest  fellows  in  the 
world.  Your  Majesty  is  unacquainted  with  the  nation 
of  link-boys  :  it  is  a  charming  one,  I  can  assure  you  :  a 
man  cannot  step  out  in  the  night  without  being  sur- 
rounded by  a  dozen  of  them.  The  first  time  I  became 
acquainted  with  them,  I  retained  all  that  offered  me 
their  .services;  so  that  when  I  arrived  at  Whitehall,  I  had 


174  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


at  least  two  hundred  about  my  chair:  the  sight  was  new; 
for  those  who  had  seen  me  pass  with  this  ilhnnination, 
asked  whose  funeral  it  was.  These  gentlemen,  however, 
began  fighting  about  some  dozen  shillings  I  had  thrown 
among  them  then;  and  he  whom  your  Majesty  mentions, 
having  beaten  three  or  four  of  his  companions,  I  retained 
him  for  his  valor.  As  for  the  parade  of  coaches  and 
footmen,  I  despise  it  :  I  have  sometimes  had  five  or  six 
valets-de-chambre  at  once,  without  having  a  single  ser- 
vant in  livery,  except  my  chaplain  Poussatin. "  "  How ! ' ' 
said  the  queen,  bursting  out  laughing,  "a  chaplain  in 
yom  livery  !  he  surely  was  not  a  priest?  "  "  Pardon  me, 
madam,"  said  he,  "and  the  first  priest  in  the  world  for 
dancing  the  Biscayan  jig."  "Chevalier,"  said  the 
king,  "  pray  tell  us  the  history  of  your  chaplain 
Poussatin. ' ' 


QUEEN  DOWAGER. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


" Sire,"  said  the  Chevalier  de Grammont,  "the  Prince 
de  Conde  besieged  Lerida  :  *  the  place  in  itself  was 
nothing  ;  but  Don  Gregorio  Brice,  who  defended  it,  was 
something.  He  was  one  of  those  Spaniards  of  the  old 
stamp,  as  valiant  as  the  Cid,  as  proud  as  all  the  Guzmans 
put  together,  and  more  gallant  than  all  the  Abencerrages 
of  Grenada  :  he  suffered  us  to  make  our  first  approaches 
to  the  place  without  the  least  molestation.  The  Marshal 
de  Grammont,  t  whose  maxim  it  was,  that  a  governor 
who  at  first  makes  a  great  blustering,  and  burns  his 
suburbs  in  order  to  make  a  noble  defence,  generally 
makes  a  very  bad  one,  looked  upon  Gregorio  de  Brice' s 
politeness  as  no  good  omen  for  us  ;  but  the  prince,  cov- 
ered with  glory,  and  elated  with  the  campaigns  of 
Rocroy,  Norlinguen,  and  Fribourg,  to  insult  both  the 


*This  was  in  1647.  Voltaire  says  "he,  Conde,  was  accused,  ujion 
this  occasion,  in  certain  books,  of  a  bravado,  in  having  opened  the 
trenches  to  the  music  of  viohns  ;  but  these  writers  were  ignorant  that 
this  was  the  custom  of  Spain." — -Age  of  Louis  XIV.,  chap.  2. 

t  Anthonj-,  marechal  of  France.  He  appears  to  have  quitted  the 
army  in  1672.  "  Le  Due  de  la  I'^euillade  est  colonel  du  regiment  des 
gardes  siir  la  demission  volontaire  du  Marechal  de  Grammont." — He- 
naiilt's  History  of  France.    He  died  1678. 

(175) 


176 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


place  and  the  governor,  ordered  the  trenches  to  be 
mounted  at  noonday  by  his  own  regiment,  a'  the  head 
of  which  marched  four-and-twenty  fiddlers,  as  if  it  had 
been  to  a  wedding. 

"  Night  approaching,  we  were  all  in  high  spirits  :  onr 
violins  were  playing  soft  airs,  and  we  were  comfortably 
regaling  ourselves  :  God  knows  how  we  were  joking 
about  the  poor  governor  and  his  fortifications,  both  of 
which  we  promised  ourselves  to  take  in  less  than  twenty- 
four  hours.  This  was  going  on  in  the  trenches,  when 
we  heard  an  ominous  cry  from  the  ramparts,  repeated 
two  or  three  times,  of,  'Alerte  on  the  walls  ! '  This  cry 
was  followed  by  a  discharge  of  cannon  and  musketry, 
and  this  discharge  by  a  vigorous  sally,  which,  after  hav- 
ing filled  up  the  trenches,  pursued  us  as  far  as  our  grand 
guard. 

"The  next  day  Gregorio  Brice  sent  by  a  trumpet  a 
present  of  ice  and  fruit  to  the  Prince  de  Conde,  humbly 
beseeching  his  highness  to  excuse  his  not  returning  the 
serenade  which  he  was  pleased  to  favor  him  with,  as 
unfortunately  he  had  no  violins  ;  but  that  if  the  music 
of  last  night  was  not  disagreeable  to  him,  he  would  en- 
deavor to  continue  it  as  long  as  he  did  him  the  honor  to 
remain  before  the  place.  The  Spaniard  was  as  good  as 
his  word  ;  and  as  soon  as  we  heard,  'Alerte  on  the  walls,' 
we  were  sure  of  a  sally,  that  cleared  our  trenches,  de- 
stroyed our  works,  and  killed  the  best  of  our  officers  and 
soldiers.  The  prince  was  so  piqued  at  it,  that,  contrary 
to  the  opinion  of  the  general  officers,  he  obstinately  per- 
sisted in  carr}dng  on  a  siege  which  was  like  to  ruin  his 
army,  and  which  he  was  at  last  forced  to  quit  in  a 
hurry. 

"As  our  troops  were  retiring,  Don  Gregorio,  far  from 
giving  himself  those  airs  which  governors  generally  do 
on  such  occasions,  made  no  other  sally  than  sending  a 
respectful  compliment  to  the  prince.  Signor  Brice  set 
out  not  long  after  for  Madrid,  to  give  an  account  of  his 


MEMOIRvS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


177 


conduct,  and  to  receive  the  recompense  he  had  merited. 
Your  majesty  perhaps  will  be  desirous  to  know  what 
reception  poor  Brice  met  with,  after  having  performed 
the  most  brilliant  action  the  Spaniards  could  boast  of  in 
all  the  war — he  was  confined  by  the  inquisition." 

"How!"  said  the  queen  dowager,  "confined  by  the 
inquisition  for  his  services?"  "Not  altogether  for  his 
services,"  said  the  Chevalier  ;  "but  without  any  regard 
to  his  services,  he  was  treated  in  the  manner  I  have  men- 
tioned for  a  little  affair  of  gallantry,  which  I  shall  relate 
to  the  king  presently. 

"The  campaign  of  Catalonia  being  tluis  ended,  we 
were  returning  home,  not  overloaded  with  laurels  ;  but 
as  the  Prince  de  Conde  had  laid  ixp  a  great  store  on 
fonner  occasions,  and  as  he  had  still  great  projects  in  his 
head,  he  soon  forgot  this  trifling  misfortune  :  we  did 
notliing  but  joke  with  one  another  during  the  march, 
and  the  prince  was  the  first  to  ridicule  the  siege.  We 
made  some  of  those  rhymes  on  Lerida,  which  were  sung 
all  over  France,  in  order  to  prevent  others  more  severe  ; 
however,  we  gained  nothing  by  it,  for  notwithstanding 
we  treated  ourselves  freely  in  our  own  ballads,  others 
were  composed  in  Paris  in  which  we  were  ten  times  more 
severely  handled.  At  last  we  arrived  at  Perpignan  upon 
a  holy-day  :  a  company  of  Catalans,  who  were  dancing 
in  the  middle  of  the  street,  out  of  respect  to  the  prince 
came  to  dance  under  his  windows  :  Monsieur  Poussatin, 
in  a  little  black  jacket,  danced  in  the  middle  of  this 
company,  as  if  he  was  really  mad.  I  immediately  recog- 
nized him  for  my  countryman,  from  his  manner  of  skip- 
ping and  frisking  about  :  the  prince  was  charmed  with 
his  humor  and  activity.  After  the  dance,  I  sent  for  him, 
and  inquired  who  he  was  :  'A  poor  priest,  at  yottr  ser- 
vice, my  lord,'  said  he:  'my  name  is  Poussatin,  and 
Bearn  is  my  native  country  :  I  was  going  into  Catalonia 
to  serve  in  the  infantry,  for,  God  be  praised,  I  can  march 
very  well  on  foot  ;  but  since  the  war  is  happily  con- 
12 


178  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 

eluded,  if  your  lordship  pleases  to  take  me  into  your 
service,  I  would  follow  you  everywhere,  and  serve  you 
faithfully.'  'Monsieur  Poussatin,'  said  I,  'my  lordship 
has  no  great  occasion  for  a  chaplain  ;  but  since  you  are 
so  well  disposed  towards  me,  I  will  take  you  into  my 
service. ' 

"The  Prince  de  Conde,  who  was  present  at  this  con- 
versation, was  overjoyed  at  my  having  a  chaplain.  As 
poor  Poussatin  was  in  a  very  tattered  condition,  I  had  no 
time  to  provide  him  with  a  proper  habit  at  Perpignan  ; 
but  giving  him  a  spare  livery  of  one  of  the  Marshal  de 
Grammont's  servants,  I  made  him  get  up  behind  the 
prince's  coach,  who  was  like  to  die  with  laughing  every 
time  he  looked  at  poor  Poussatin' s  uncanonical  mien  in 
a  yellow  livery. 

'  'As  soon  as  we  arrived  at  Paris,  the  story  was  told  to 
the  queen,  who  at  first  expressed  some  surprise  at  it : 
this,  however,  did  not  prevent  her  from  wishing  to  see 
my  chaplain  dance  ;  for  in  Spain  it  is  not  altogether 
so  strange  to  see  ecclesiastics  dance,  as  to  see  them  in 
livery. 

' '  Poussatin  performed  wonders  before  the  queen  ;  but 
as  he  danced  with  great  sprightliness,  she  could  not  bear 
the  odor  which  his  violent  motions  diffused  around  her 
room  :  the  ladies  likewise  began  to  pray  for  relief ;  for 
he  had  almost  entirely  got  the  better  of  all  the  perfumes 
and  essences  with  which  they  were  fortified  :  Poussatin, 
nevertheless,  retired  with  a  great  deal  of  applause,  and 
some  louis  d'or. 

"  Some  time  afterwards  I  procured  a  small  benefice  in 
the  country  for  my  chaplain,  and  I  have  since  been  in- 
formed that  Poussatin  preached  with  the  same  ease  in 
his  village  as  he  danced  at  the  wedding  of  his  parish- 
ioners. ' ' 

The  king  was  exceedingly  diverted  at  Poussatin's 
history  ;  and  the  queen  was  not  much  hurt  at  his  having 
been  put  in  livery  :  the  treatment  of  Gregorio  Brice 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


179 


offended  her  far  more  ;  and  being  desirous  to  justify  the 
court  of  Spain,  with  respect  to  so  cruel  a  proceeding  : 
"  Chevalier  de  Grammont, "  said  she,  "  what  heresy  did 
Governor  Brice  wish  to  introduce  into  the  state  ?  What 
crime  against  religion  was  he  charged  with,  that  he  was 
confined  in  the  inquisition?"  "Madam,"  said  he,  "the 
history  is  not  very  proper  to  be  related  before  your 
majesty  :  it  was  a  little  amorous  frolic,  ill-timed  indeed  ; 
but  poor  Brice  meant  no  harm  :  a  schoolboy  would  not 
have  been  whipped  for  such  a  fault  in  the  most  severe 
college  in  France  ;  as  it  was  only  for  giving  some  proofs 
of  his  affection  to  a  young  Spanish  fair  one,  who  had 
fixed  her  eyes  upon  him  on  a  solemn  occasion." 

The  king  desired  to  know  the  particulars  of  the  ad- 
venture ;  and  the  Chevalier  gratified  his  curiosity  as  soon 
as  the  queen  and  the  rest  of  the  court  were  out  of  hear- 
ing. It  was  very  entertaining  to  hear  him  tell  a  story  ; 
but  it  was  very  disagreeable  to  differ  with  him,  either  in 
competition,  or  in  raillery:  it  is  true  that  at  that  time  there 
were  few  persons  at  the  English  court  who  had  merited 
his  indignation  :  Russell  was  sometimes  the  subject  of 
his  ridicule,  but  he  treated  him  far  more  tenderly  than 
he  usually  did  a  rival. 

This  Russell  was  one  of  the  most  furious  dancers  in 
all  England,  I  mean,  for  country  dances  :  he  had  a  col- 
lection of  two  or  three  hundred  in  print,  all  of  which  he 
danced  at  sight;  and  to  prove  that  he  was  not  an  old  man, 
he  sometimes  danced  until  he  was  almost  exhausted  : 
his  mode  of  dancing  was  like  that  of  his  clothes,  for  they 
both  had  been  out  of  fashion  full  twenty  years. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  was  very  sensible  that  he 
was  very  much  in  love  ;  but  though  he  saw  very  well 
that  it  only  rendered  him  more  ridiculous,  yet  he  felt 
some  concern  at  the  information  he  received,  of  his  in- 
tention of  demanding  ]\Iiss  Hamilton  in  marriage  ;  but 
his  concern  did  not  last  long. 

Russell,  being  upon  the  point  of  setting  out  on  a 


180  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


journey,  thought  it  was  proper  to  acquaint  his  mistress 
with  his  intentions  before  his  departure.  The  Chevalier 
de  Grammont  was  a  great  obstacle  to  the  interview  he 
was  desirous  of  obtaining  of  her  ;  but  being  one  day  sent 
for,  to  go  and  play  at  Lady  Castleniaine's,  Russell  seized 
the  opportunity,  and  addressing  himself  to  Miss  Hamil- 
ton, with  less  embarrassment  than  is  usual  on  such  occa- 
sions, he  made  his  declaration  to  her  in  the  following 
manner :  "I  am  brother  to  the  Earl  of  Bedford  :  I  com- 
mand the  regiment  of  guards :  I  have  three  thousand 
pounds  a  year,  and  fifteen  thousand  in  ready  money  :  all 
which,  madam,  I  come  to  present  to  you,  along  with  my 
person.  One  present,  I  agree,  is  not  worth  much  with- 
out the  other,  and  therefore  I  put  them  together.  I  am 
advised  to  go  to  some  of  the  watering  places  for  some- 
thing of  an  asthma,  which,  in  all  probability,  cannot 
continue  much  longer,  as  I  have  had  it  for  these  last 
twenty  years  :  if  you  look  upon  me  as  worthy  of  the  hap- 
piness of  belonging  to  you,  I  shall  propose  it  to  your 
father,  to  whom  I  did  not  think  it  right  to  apply  before 
I  was  acquainted  with  your  sentiments  :  my  nephew 
William  is  at  present  entirely  ignorant  of  my  intention  ; 
but  I  believe  he  will  not  be  sorry  for  it,  though  he  will 
thereby  see  himself  deprived  of  a  pretty  considerable 
estate  ;  for  he  has  great  affection  for  me,  and  besides,  he 
has  a  pleasure  in  paying  his  respects  to  you  since  he  has 
perceived  my  attachment.  I  am  very  much  pleased  that 
he  should  make  his  court  to  me,  by  the  attention  he 
pa}  S  to  you  ;  for  he  did  nothing  but  squander  his  money 
upon  that  coquette  Middleton,  while  at  present  he  is  at 
no  expense,  though  he  frequents  the  best  company  in 
England." 

Miss  Hamilton  had  much  difficulty  to  suppress  her 
laughter  during  this  harangue  :  however,  she  told  him 
that  she  thought  herself  much  honored  by  his  intentions 
towards  her,  and  still  more  obliged  to  him  for  consulting 
her,  before  he  made  any  overtures  to  her  relations  :  "It 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


181 


will  be  time  enough,"  said  she,  "to  speak  to  them  upon 
the  subject  at  your  return  from  the  waters  ;  for  I  do  not 
think  it  is  at  all  probable  that  they  will  dispose  of  me 
before  that  time,  and  in  case  they  should  be  urgent  in 
their  solicitations,  your  nephew  William  will  take  care 
to  acquaint  you  ;  therefore,  you  may  set  out  whenever 
you  think  proper  ;  but  take  care  not  to  injure  your  health 
by  returning  too  soon." 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  having  heard  the  par- 
ticulars of  this  conversation,  endeavored,  as  well  as  he 
could,  to  be  entertained  with  it  ;  though  there  were  cer- 
tain circumstances  in  the  declaration,  notwithstanding 
the  absiirdity  of  others,  which  did  not  fail  to  give  him 
some  uneasiness.  Upon  the  whole,  he  was  not  sorry  for 
Russell's  departure;  and,  assuming  an  air  of  pleasantry, 
he  went  to  relate  to  the  king  how  Heaven  had  favored 
him  by  delivering  him  from  so  dangerous  a  rival.  "He 
is  gone  then,  Chevalier,"  said  the  king.  "Certainly, 
sir,"  said  he  ;  "I  had  the  honor  to  see  him  embark  in  a 
coach,  with  his  asthma,  and  country  equipage,  his 
perruque  a  calotte,  neatly  tied  with  a  yellow  riband,  and 
his  old-fashioned  hat  covered  with  oil-skin,  which  be- 
comes him  uncommonly  well  :  therefore,  I  have  only  to 
contend  with  William  Russell,  whom  he  leaves  as  his 
resident  with  Miss  Hamilton  ;  and  as  for  him,  I  neither 
fear  him  upon  his  own  account,  nor  his  uncle's  ;  he  is 
too  much  in  love  himself  to  pay  attention  to  the  interests 
of  another  ;  and  as  he  has  but  one  method  of  promoting 
his  own,  which  is  by  sacrificing  the  portrait,  or  some 
love-letters  of  Mrs.  Middleton,  I  have  it  easily  in  my 
power  to  counteract  him  in  such  kind  of  favors,  though 
I  confess  I  have  pretty  well  paid  for  them." 

"Since  your  affairs  proceed  so  prosperously  with  the 
Russells,"  said  the  king,  "I  will  acquaint  you  that  you 
are  delivered  from  another  rival,  much  more  dangerous, 
if  he  were  not  already  married  :  my  brother  has  lately 
fallen  in  love  with  Lady  Chesterfield."    "How  many 


182 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


blessings  at  once  !"  exclaimed  the  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
mont :  "I  have  so  many  obligations  to  him  for  this  in- 
constancy, that  I  would  willingly  serve  him  in  his  new 
amour,  if  Hamilton  was  not  his  rival  :  nor  will  your 
majesty  take  it  ill,  if  I  promote  the  interests  of  my  mis- 
tress's brother,  rather  than  those  of  your  majesty's 
brother. "  "  Hamilton,  however, ' '  said  the  king,  ' '  does 
not  stand  so  much  in  need  of  assistance,  in  affairs  of  this 
nature,  as  the  Duke  of  York  ;  but  I  know  Lord  Chester- 
field is  of  such  a  disposition,  that  he  will  not  suffer  men 
to  quarrel  about  his  wife,  with  the  same  patience  as  the 
complaisant  Shrewsbury  ;  though  he  well  deserves  the 
same  fate."  Here  follows  a  true  description  of  Lord 
Chesterfield.  * 

He  had  a  very  agreeable  face,  a  fine  head  of  hair,  an 
indifferent  shape,  and  a  worse  air  ;  he  was  not,  however, 
deficient  in  wit :  a  long  residence  in  Italy  had  made  him 
ceremonious  in  his  commerce  with  men,  and  jealous  in 
his  connection  with  women  :  he  had  been  much  hated 
by  the  king,  because  he  had  been  much  beloved  by 
Lady  Castlemaine  :  it  was  reported  that  he  had  been  in 
her  good  graces  prior  to  her  marriage  ;  and  as  neither 
of  them  denied  it,  it  was  the  more  generally  believed. 

He  had  paid  his  devoirs  to  the  eldest  daughter  of  the 
Duke  of  Onnond,  while  his  heart  was  still  taken  up  with 
his  former  passion  :  the  king's  love  for  Lady  Castle- 
maine, and  the  advancement  he  expected  from  such  an 
alliance,  made  him  press  the  match  with  as  much  ardor 
as  if  he  had  been  passionately  in  love  :  he  had  therefore 

*  Philip,  the  second  Earl  of  Chesterfield.  He  was  constituted,  in 
1662,  lord-chamberlain  to  the  queen,  and  colonel  of  a  regiment  of  foot, 
June  13,  1667.  On  November  29,  1679,  he  was  appointed  lord- warden 
and  chief-justice  of  the  king's  forests  on  this  side  Trent,  and  sworn  of 
the  privy-council,  January  26,  1680.  On  November  6,  1682,  he  was  made 
colonel  of  the  third  regiment  of  foot,  which,  with  the  rest  of  his  prefer- 
ments, he  resigned  on  the  accession  of  James  II.  He  lived  to  the  age 
of  upwards  of  80,  and  died  January  28,  1713,  at  his  house,  in  Blooms- 
bury-square. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT.  183 

married  Lady  Chesterfield  without  loving  her,  aud  had 
lived  some  time  with  her  in  such  coolness  as  to  leave  her 
no  room  to  doubt  of  his  indifference.  As  she  was  en- 
dowed with  great  sensibility  and  delicacy,  she  suffered 
at  this  contempt :  she  was  at  first  much  affected  with  his 
behavior,  and  afterwards  enraged  at  it  ;  and,  when  he 
began  to  give  her  proofs  of  his  affection,  she  had  the 
pleasure  of  convincing  him  of  her  indifference. 

They  were  upon  this  footing,  when  she  resolved  to 
cure  Hamilton,  as  she  had  lately  done  her  husband,  of 
all  his  remaining  tenderness  for  Lady  Castlemaine.  For 
her  it  was  no  difficult  undertaking  ;  the  conversation  of 
the  one  was  disagreeable,  from  the  unpolished  state  of 
her  manners,  her  ill-timed  pride,  her  uneven  temper,  and 
extravagant  humors  :  Lady  Chesterfield,  on  the  contrary, 
knew  how  to  heighten  her  charms  with  all  the  bewitch- 
ing attractions  in  the  power  of  a  woman  to  invent  who 
wishes  to  make  a  conquest. 

Besides  all  this,  she  had  greater  opportunities  of  mak- 
ing advances  to  him  than  to  any  other  :  she  lived  at  the 
Duke  of  Ormond's,  at  Whitehall,  where  Hamilton,  as 
was  said  before,  had  free  admittance  at  all  hours  :  her 
extreme  coldness,  or  rather  the  disgust  which  she  showed 
for  her  husband's  returning  affection,  wakened  his  nat- 
ural inclination  to  jealousy  :  he  suspected  that  she  could 
not  so  very  suddenly  pass  from  anxiety  to  indifference  for 
him,  without  some  secret  object  of  a  new  attachment  ; 
and,  according  to  the  maxim  of  all  jealous  husbands,  he 
immediately  put  in  practice  all  his  experience  and  in- 
dustry, in  order  to  make  a  discovery,  which  was  to  de- 
stroy his  own  happiness. 

Hamilton,  who  knew  his  disposition,  was,  on  the 
other  hand,  upon  his  guard,  and  the  more  he  advanced 
in  his  intrigue,  the  more  attentive  was  he  to  remove 
every  degree  of  suspicion  from  the  earl's  mind  :  he  pre- 
tended to  make  him  his  confidant,  in  the  most  unguarded 
and  open  manner,  of  his  passion  for  Lady  Castlemaine : 


184  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 

he  complained  of  her  caprice,  and  most  earnestly  desired 
his  advice  how  to  succeed  with  a  person  whose  affections 
he  alone  had  entirely  possessed. 

Chesterfield,  who  was  flattered  with  this  discourse, 
promised  him  his  protection  with  greater  sincerity  than 
it  had  been  demanded :  Hamilton,  therefore,  was  no 
further  embarrassed  than  to  preserve  Lady  Chesterfield's 
reputation,  who,  in  his  opinion,  declared  herself  rather 
too  openly  in  his  favor :  but  whilst  he  was  diligently 
employed  in  regulating,  within  the  rules  of  discretion, 
the  partiality  she  expressed  for  him,  and  in  conjuring 
her  to  restrain  her  glances  within  bounds,  she  was  re- 
ceiving those  of  the  Duke  of  York  ;  and,  what  is  more, 
made  them  favorable  returns. 

He  thought  that  he  had  perceived  it,  as  well  as  every 
one  besides  ;  but  he  thought  likewise,  that  all  the  world 
was  deceived  as  well  as  himself :  how  could  he  trust  his 
own  eyes,  as  to  what  those  of  Lady  Chesterfield  be- 
trayed for  this  new  rival  ?  He  could  not  think  it  prob- 
able, that  a  woman  of  her  disposition  could  relish  a  man 
whose  manners  had  a  thousand  times  been  the  subject  of 
their  private  ridicule  ;  but  what  he  judged  still  more 
improbable  was,  that  she  should  begin  another  intrigue 
before  she  had  given  the  finishing  stroke  to  that  in  which 
her  own  advances  had  engaged  her  :  however,  he  began 
to  observe  her  with  more  circumspection,  when  he  found 
by  fiis  discoveries,  that  if  she  did  not  deceive  him,  at 
least  the  desire  of  doing  so  was  not  wanting.  This  he 
took  the  liberty  of  telling  her  of ;  but  she  answered  him 
in  so  high  a  strain,  and  treated  what  he  said  so  much 
like  a  phantom  of  his  own  imagination,  that  he  appeared 
confused  without  being  convinced  :  all  the  satisfaction 
he  could  procure  from  her,  was  her  telling  him,  in  a 
haughty  manner,  that  such  unjust  reproaches  as  his 
ought  to  have  had  a  better  foundation. 

Lord  Chesterfield  had  taken  the  same  alarm  ;  and  being 
convinced,  from  the  observations  he  had  made,  that  he 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


185 


had  found  out  the  happy  lover  who  had  gained  possession 
of  his  lady's  heart,  he  was  satisfied ;  and  without  teas- 
ing her  with  unnecessary  reproaches,  he  only  waited  for 
an  opportunity  to  confound  her,  before  he  took  his 
measures. 

After  all,  how  can  we  account  for  Lady  Chesterfield's 
conduct,  unless  we  attribute  it  to  the  disease  incident  to 
most  coquettes,  who,  charmed  with  superiority,  put  in 
practice  every  art  to  rob  another  of  her  conquest,  and 
spare  nothing  to  preserve  it. 

But  before  we  enter  into  the  particulars  of  this  adven- 
ture, let  us  take  a  retrospect  of  the  amours  of  his  Royal 
Highness,  prior  to  the  declaration  of  his  marriage,  and 
particularly  of  what  immediately  preceded  this  declara- 
tion. It  is  allowable  sometimes  to  drop  the  thread  of  a 
narrative,  when  real  facts,  not  generally  known,  give 
such  a  variety  upon  the  digression  as  to  render  it  ex- 
cusable :  let  us  see  then  how  those  things  happened. 

The  Duke  of  York's  marriage,  *  with  the  chancellor's 
daughter,  was  deficient  in  none  of  those  circumstances 
which  render  contracts  of  this  nature  valid  in  the  eye  of 
heaven  :  the  mutual  inclination,  the  formal  ceremony, 
witnesses,  and  every  essential  point  of  matrimony,  had 
been  observed. 

Though  the  bride  was  no  perfect  beauty,  yet,  as  there 
were  none  at  the  court  of  Holland  who  eclipsed  her,  the 
duke,  during  the  first  endearments  of  matrimony,  was 
so  far  from  repenting  of  it,  that  he  seemed  only  to  wish 
for  the  king's  restoration  that  he  might  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  declaring  it  with  splendor  ;  but  when  he  saw 
himself  enjoying  a  rank  which  placed  him  so  near  the 
throne  ;  when  the  possession  of  Miss  Hyde  afforded  him 


*  The  material  facts  in  this  narrative  are  confirmed  by  Lord  Claren- 
don.— Continuation  of  his  Life,  p.  33.  It  is  difficult  to  speak  of  the 
persons  concerned  in  this  infamous  transaction  without  some  degree  of 
asperit}-,  notwithstanding  they  are,  by  a  strange  perversion  of  language, 
styled,  all  men  of  honor. 


18G 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


no  new  charms  ;  when  England,  so  abounding  in  beau- 
ties, displayed  all  that  was  charming  and  lovely  in  the 
court  of  the  king,  his  brother  ;  and  when  he  considered 
he  was  the  only  prince,  who,  from  such  superior  eleva- 
tion, had  descended  so  low,  he  began  to  reflect  upon  it. 
On  the  one  hand,  his  marriage  appeared  to  him  particu- 
larly ill  suited  in  every  respect :  he  recollected  that  Jer- 
myn  had  not  engaged  him  in  an  intimacy  with  Miss 
Hyde,  until  he  had  convinced  him,  by  several  different 
circumstances,  of  the  facility  of  succeeding :  he  looked 
upon  his  marriage  as  an  infringement  of  that  duty  and 
obedience  he  owed  to  the  king ;  the  indignation  with 
which  the  court,  and  even  the  whole  kingdom,  would 
receive  the  account  of  his  marriage  presented  itself  to  his 
imagination,  together  with  the  impossibility  of  obtaining 
the  king's  consent  to  such  an  act,  which  for  a  thousand 
reasons  he  would  be  obliged  to  refuse.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  tears  and  despair  of  poor  Miss  Hyde  presented 
themselves ;  and  still  more  than  that,  he  felt  a  remorse 
of  conscience,  the  scruples  of  which  began  from  that 
time  to  rise  up  against  him. 

In  the  midst  of  this  perplexity  he  opened  his  heart  to 
Ivord  Falmouth,  and  consulted  with  him  what  method 
he  ought  to  pursue:  he  could  not  have  applied  to  a  better 
man  for  his  own  interests,  nor  to  a  worse  for  Miss  Hyde's; 
for  at  first,  Falmouth  maintained  not  only  that  he  was  not 
married,  but  that  it  was  even  impossible  that  he  could 
ever  have  formed  such  a  thought;  that  any  marriage  was 
invalid  for  him,  which  was  made  without  the  king's  con- 
sent, even  if  the  party  was  a  suitable  match:  but  that  it 
was  a  mere  jest,  even  to  think  of  the  daughter  of  an  insig- 
nificant lawyer,  whom  the  favor  of  his  sovereign  had 
lately  made  a  peer  of  the  realm,  without  any  noble 
blood,  and  chancellor,  without  any  capacity ;  that  as  for 
his  scruples,  he  had  only  to  give  ear  to  some  gentlemen 
whom  he  could  introduce,  who  would  thoroughly  inform 
him  of  Miss  Hyde's  conduct  before  he  became  acquainted 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


187 


with  her;  and  provided  he  did  not  tell  them  that  he  really 
was  married,  he  would  soon  have  sufficient  grounds  to 
come  to  a  determination. 

The  Duke  of  York  consented,  and  Lord  Falmouth, 
having  assembled  both  his  council  and  his  witnesses, 
conducted  them  to  his  Royal  Highness' s  cabinet,  after 
having  instructed  them  how  to  act:  these  gentlemen 
were  the  Earl  of  Arran,  Jermyn,  Talbot,  and  Killegrew, 
all  men  of  honor  ;  but  who  infinitely  preferred  the 
Duke  of  York's  interest  to  ]\Iiss  Hyde's  reputation,  and 
who,  besides,  were  greatly  dissatisfied,  as  well  as 
the  whole  court,  at  the  insolent  authority  of  the  prime 
minister. 

The  duke  having  told  them,  after  a  sort  of  preamble, 
that  although  they  could  not  be  ignorant  of  his  affection 
for  ]\Iiss  Hyde,  yet  they  might  be  unacquainted  with  the 
engagements  his  tenderness  for  her  had  induced  him  to 
contract;  that  he  thought  himself  obliged  to  perform  all 
the  promises  he  had  made  her;  but  as  the  innocence  of 
persons  of  her  age  was  generally  exposed  to  court  scandal, 
and  as  certain  reports,  whether  false  or  true,  had  been 
spread  abroad  on  the  subject  of  her  conduct,  he  con- 
jured them  as  his  friends,  and  charged  them  upon  their 
duty,  to  tell  him  sincerely  jeverything  they  knew  upon 
the  subject,  since  he  was  resolved  to  make  their  evidence 
the  rule  of  his  conduct  towards  her.  They  all  appeared 
rather  reserved  at  first,  and  seemed  not  to  dare  to  give 
their  opinions  upon  an  affair  of  so  serious  and  delicate  a 
nature  ;  but  the  Duke  of  York  having  renewed  his  en- 
treaties, each  began  to  relate  the  particulars  of  what  he 
knew,  and  perhaps  of  more  than  he  knew,  of  poor  Miss 
Hyde  ;  nor  did  they  omit  any  circumstance  necessary  to 
strengthen  the  evidence.  For  instance  the  Earl  of  Arran, 
who  spoke  first,  deposed,  that  in  the  gallery  at  Honslaer- 
dyk,  where  the  Countess  of  Ossory,  his  sister-in-law,  and 
Jermyn,  were  playing  at  nine-pins,  Miss  Hyde,  pretend- 
ing to  be  sick,  retired  to  a  chamber  at  the  end  of 


188 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


the  gallery  ;  that  he,  the  deponent,  had  followed  her, 
and  having  cut  her  lace,  to  give  a  greater  probability  to 
the  pretence  of  the  vapors,  he  had  acquitted  himself  to 
the  best  of  his  abilities,  both  to  assist  and  to  console 
her. 

Talbot  said,  that  she  had  made  an  appointment  with 
him  in  the  chancellor's  cabinet,  while  he  was  in  council; 
and,  that,  not  paying  so  much  attention  to  what  was 
upon  the  table  as  to  what  they  were  engaged  in,  they 
had  spilled  a  bottle  full  of  ink  upon  a  despatch  of  four 
pages,  and  that  the  king's  monkey,  which  was  blamed 
for  this  accident,  had  been  a  long  time  in  disgrace. 

Jermyn  mentioned  many  places  where  he  had  received 
long  and  favorable  audiences:  however,  all  these  articles 
of  accusation  amounted  only  to  some  delicate  familiari- 
ties, or  at  most,  to  what  is  generally  denominated  the 
innocent  part  of  an  intrigue;  but  Killegrew,  who  wished 
to  surpass  these  trivial  depositions,  boldly  declared  that 
he  had  had  the  honor  of  being  tipon  the  most  intimate 
terms  with  her:  he  was  of  a  sprightly  and  witty  humor, 
and  had  the  art  of  telling  a  story  in  the  most  entertain- 
ing manner,  by  the  graceful  and  natural  turn  he  could 
give  it:  he  affirmed  that  he  had  found  the  critical  minute 
in  a  certain  closet  built  over  the  water,  for  a  purpose 
very  different  from  that  of  giving  ease  to  the  pains  of 
love:  that  three  or  four  swans  had  been  witnesses  to  his 
happiness,  and  might  perhaps  have  been  witnesses 
to  the  happiness  of  many  others,  as  the  lady  frequently 
repaired  to  that  place,  and  was  particularly  delighted 
with  it. 

The  Duke  of  York  found  this  last  accusation  greatly 
out  of  bounds,  being  convinced  he  himself  had  sufficient 
proofs  of  the  contrary  :  he  therefore  returned  thanks  to 
these  officious  informers  for  their  frankness,  ordered 
them  to  be  silent  for  the  future  upon  what  they  had  been 
telling  him,  and  immediately  passed  into  the  king's 
apartment. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


189 


As  soon  as  he  had  entered  the  cabinet,  Lord  Fahnoiith, 
who  had  followed  him,  related  what  had  passed  to  the 
Earl  of  Ossory,  whom  he  met  in  the  presence  chamber  : 
they  strongly  suspected  what  was  the  subject  of  the 
conversation  of  the  two  brothers,  as  it  was  long;  and  the 
Duke  of  York  appeared  to  be  in  such  agitation  when  he 
came  oiit,  that  they  no  longer  doubted  that  the  result 
had  been  unfavorable  for  poor  Miss  Hyde.  Lord  Fal- 
mouth began  to  be  affected  for  her  disgrace,  and  to 
relent  that  he  had  been  concerned  in  it,  when  the  Duke 
of  York  told  him  and  the  Earl  of  Ossory  to  meet  him  in 
about  an  hour's  time  at  the  chancellor's. 

They  were  rather  surprised  that  he  should  have  the 
cruelty  himself  to  announce  such  a  melancholy  piece  of 
news  :  they  foimd  his  Royal  Highness  at  the  appointed 
hour  in  Miss  Hyde's  chamber:  a  few  tears  trickled  down 
her  cheeks,  which  she  endeavored  to  restrain.  The 
chancellor,  leaning  against  the  wall,  appeared  to  them  to 
be  puffed  up  with  something,  which  they  did  not  doubt 
was  rage  and  despair.  The  Duke  of  York  said  to  them, 
with  that  serene  and  pleasant  countenance  with  which 
meu  generally  announce  good  news:  "As  you  are  the 
two  men  of  the  court  whom  I  most  esteem,  lam  desirous 
you  should  first  have  the  honor  of  paying  your  com- 
pliments to  the  Duchess  of  York:  there  she  is." 

Surprise  was  of  no  use,  and  astonishment  was  unsea- 
sonable on  the  present  occasion  :  they  were,  however,  so 
greatly  possessed  with  both  surprise  and  astonishment, 
that  in  order  to  conceal  it,  they  immediately  fell  on  their 
knees  to  kiss  her  hand,  which  she  gave  to  them  with  as 
much  majesty  as  if  she  had  been  used  to  it  all  her  life. 

The  next  day  the  news  was  made  public,  and  the 
whole  court  was  eager  to  pay  her  that  respect,  from  a 
sense  of  duty,  which  in  the  end  became  very  sincere. 

The  petits-maitres  who  had  spoken  against  her,  seeing 
their  intentions  disappointed,  were  not  a  little  embar- 
rassed.    Women   are   seldom   accustomed   to  forgive 


190  MEMOIRS  OP  COUNT  GRAMMONl*. 

injuries  of  this  nature  ;  and,  if  they  promise  themselves 
the  pleasure  of  revenge,  when  they  gain  the  power,  they 
seldom  forget  it :  in  the  present  case,  however,  the  fears 
of  these  petits-maitres  were  their  onl)-  punishment. 

The  Duchess  of  York,  being  fully  informed  of  all  that 
was  said  in  the  cabinet  concerning  her,  instead  of  show- 
ing the  least  resentment,  studied  to  distinguish,  by  all 
manner  of  kindness  and  good  offices,  those  who  had  at- 
tacked her  in  so  sensible  a  part ;  nor  did  she  ever 
mention  it  to  them  but  in  order  to  praise  their  zeal,  and 
to  tell  them  "that  nothing  was  a  greater  proof  of  the 
attachment  of  a  man  of  honor,  than  his  being  more  solic- 
itous for  the  interest  of  his  friend  or  master,  than  for  his 
own  reputation:  "  a  remarkable  example  of  prudence  and 
moderation,  not  only  for  the  fair  sex,  but  even  for  those 
who  value  themselves  most  upon  their  philosophy  among 
the  men. 

The  Duke  of  York,  having  quieted  his  conscience  by 
the  declaration  of  his  marriage,  thought  that  he  was  en- 
titled, by  this  generous  effort,  to  give  way  a  little  to  his 
inconstancy:  he  therefore  immediately  seized  upon  what- 
ever he  could  first  lay  his  hands  upon  :  this  was  Lady 
Carnegy,  *  who  had  been  in  several  other  hands.  She 
was  still  tolerably  handsome,  and  her  disposition,  natu- 
rally inclined  to  tenderness,  did  not  oblige  her  new  lover 
long  to  languish.  Everything  coincided  with  their 
wishes  for  some  time  :  Lord  Carnegy,  her  husband,  was 
in  Scotland  ;  but  his  father  dying  suddenly,  he  as  sud- 
denly returned  with  the  title  of  Southesk,  which  his 
wife  detested  ;  but  which  she  took  more  patiently  than 
she  received  the  news  of  his  return.  Some  private  inti- 
mation had  been  given  him  of  the  honor  that  was  done 
him  in  his  absence  :  nevertheless,  he  did  not  show  his 
jealousy  at  first ;  but,  as  he  was  desirous  to  be  satisfied 


*  Anne,  daughter  of  William,  Duke  of  Hamilton,  and  wife  of  Robert 
Carnegy,  Earl  of  Southesk. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


191 


of  the  reality  of  the  fact,  he  kept  a  strict  watch  over  his 
wife's  actions.  The  Duke  of  York  and  her  ladyship  had 
for  some  time  been  itpon  such  terms  of  intimacy  as  not 
to  pass  their  time  in  frivolous  amusements;  however,  the 
husband's  return  obliged  them  to  maintain  some  de- 
corum: he  therefore  never  went  to  her  house,  but  in  form, 
that  is  to  say,  alwaj's  accompanied  by  some  friend  or  other, 
to  give  his  amours  at  least  the  appearance  of  a  visit. 

About  this  time  Talbot  *  returned  from  Portugal :  this 
connection  had  taken  place  during  his  absence;  and  with- 
out knowing  who  Lady  Southesk  was,  he  had  been  in- 
formed that  his  master  was  in  love  with  her. 

A  few  days  after  his  arrival,  he  was  carried,  merely  to 
keep  up  appearances,  to  her  house  by  the  duke;  and  after 
being  introduced,  and  some  compliments  having  been 
paid  on  both  sides,  he  thought  it  his  duty  to  give  his 
Royal  Highness  an  opportimity  to  pay  his  compliments, 
and  accordingly  retired  into  the  ante-chamber,  which 
looked  into  the  street,  and  placed  himself  at  the  window 
to  view  the  people  as  they  passed. 

He  was  one  of  the  best  meaning  men  in  the  world  on 
such  occasions ;  but  was  so  subject  to  forgetfulness,  and 
absence  of  mind,  that  he  once  forgot,  and  left  behind 
him  at  London  a  complimentary  letter  which  the  duke 
had  given  him  for  the  Infanta  of  Portugal,  and  never 
recollected  it  till  he  was  going  to  his  audience. 

He  stood  sentry,  as  wc  have  before  said,  very  attentive 
to  his  instructions,  when  he  saw  a  coach  stop  at  the  door, 
without  being  in  the  least  concerned  at  it,  and  still  less, 
at  a  man  whom  he  saw  get  out  of  it,  and  whom  he  imme- 
diately heard  coming  up-stairs. 

The  devil,  who  ought  to  be  civil  upon  such  occasions, 
forgot  himself  in  the  present  instance,  and  brought  up 
Lord  Southesk  in  propria persond:  his  Royal  Highness's 
equipage  had  been  sent  home,  because  my  lady  had  as- 


*  Afterwards  Duke  of  Tyrconiiel. 


192  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 

sured  him  that  her  husband  was  gone  to  see  a  bear  and 
a  bull  baiting,  an  entertainment  in  which  he  took  great 
delieht,  and  from  whence  he  seldom  returned  until  it 
was  very  late;  so  that  South esk,  not  seeing  any  equipage 
at  the  door,  little  imagined  that  he  had  such  good  com- 
pany in  his  house  ;  but  if  he  was  surprised  to  see  Talbot 
carelessly  lolling  in  his  wife's  ante-chamber,  his  surprise 
was  soon  over.  Talbot,  who  had  not  seen  him  since 
they  were  in  Flanders,  and  never  supposing  that  he  had 
changed  his  name:  "Welcome,  Carnegy^  welcome,  my 
good  fellow,"  said  he,  giving  him  his  hand;  "where 
the  devil  have  you  been,  that  I  have  never  been  able  to 
set  eyes  on  you  since  we  were  at  Brussels  ?  What  busi- 
ness brought  you  here  ?  Do  you  likewise  wish  to  see 
Lady  Southesk  ?  If  this  is  your  intention,  my  poor 
friend,  you  may  go  away  again  ;  for  I  must  inform  you, 
the  Duke  of  York  is  in  love  with  her,  and  I  will  tell 
you  in  confidence,  that,  at  this  very  time,  he  is  in  her 
chamber. ' ' 

Southesk,  confounded  as  one  may  suppose,  had  no 
time  to  answer  all  these  fine  questions  :  Talbot,  there- 
fore, attended  him  down-stairs  as  his  friend  ;  and,  as  his 
humble  servant,  advised  him  to  seek  for  a  mistress  else- 
where. Southesk,  not  knowing  what  else  to  do  at  that 
time,  returned  to  his  coach  ;  and  Talbot,  overjoyed  at 
the  adventure,  impatiently  waited  for  the  duke's  return, 
that  he  might  acquaint  him  with  it  ;  but  he  was  very 
much  surprised  to  find  that  the  story  afforded  no  pleas- 
ure to  those  who  had  the  principal  share  in  it  ;  and  his 
greatest  concern  was,  that  Carnegy  had  changed  his 
name,  as  if  only  to  draw  him  into  such  a  confidence. 

This  accident  broke  off  a  commerce  which  the  Duke 
of  York  did  not  much  regret ;  and  indeed  it  was  happy 
for  him  that  he  became  indifferent  ;  for  the  traitor 
Southesk  meditated  a  revenge,*  whereby,  without  using 


*  Bishop  Burnet,  taking  notice  of  the  Duke  of  York's  amours,  says  : 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


193 


either  assassination  or  poison,  he  would  have  obtained 
some  satisfaction  upon  those  who  had  injured  him,  if  the 
connection  had  continued  any  longer. 

He  went  to  the  most  infamous  places,  to  seek  for  the 
most  infamous  disease,  which  he  met  with  ;  but  his  re- 
venge was  onh'  half  completed ;  for  after  he  had  gone 
through  every  remedy  to  get  qiiit  of  his  disease,  his 
lady  did  but  return  him  his  present,  having  no  more 
connection  with  the  person  for  whom  it  was  so  indus- 
triously prepared. 

Lady  Robarts  *  was  then  in  the  zenith  of  her  glory  ; 


"A  storj'  was  set  about,  and  generallj' believed,  that  the  Earl  of  South- 
esk,  that  had  married  a  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Hamilton,  suspecting 
some  familiarities  between  the  duke  and  his  wife,  had  taken  a  sure 
method  to  procure  a  disease  to  himself,  which  he  communicated  to  his 
wife,  and  was,  by  that  means,  sent  round  till  it  came  to  the  duchess. 
Lord  Southesk  was,  for  some  years,  not  ill  pleased  to  have  this  believed. 
It  looked  like  a  peculiar  strain  of  revenge,  with  which  he  seemed 
much  delighted.  But  I  know  he  has,  to  some  of  his  friends,  denied  the 
whole  of  the  stor}-  very  solemnly." — History  of  his  Own  Times,  vol. 
i->  P-  3^9-  It  is  worthy  of  notice  that  the  passage  in  the  text  was 
omitted  in  most  editions  of  Grammont,  and  retained  in  that  of  Straw- 
berry-hill, in  1772. 

*  Lord  Orford  says  this  lady  was  Sarah,  daughter  of  John  Bodville 
of  Bodville  castle,  in  Caernarvon.shire,  wife  of  Robert  Robarts,  who 
died  in  the  lifetime  of  his  father,  and  was  eldest  son  of  John,  Earl  of 
Radnor.  This,  however,  may  be  doubted.  There  was  no  Earl  of  Rad- 
nor until  the  year  1679,  which  was  after  the  date  of  most,  if  not  all, 
the  transactions  related  in  this  work  ;  consequently,  no  other  person, 
who  could  be  called  Lord  Robarts,  than  John,  the  second  lord,  who 
was  created  Earl  of  Radnor,  with  whose  character  several  of  the  quali- 
ties here  enumerated,  particularly  his  age,  moroseness,  etc.,  will  be 
found  to  agree.  Supposing  this  to  be  admitted,  the  lady  will  be  Isa- 
bella, daughter  of  Sir  John  Smith  Knight,  second  wife  of  the  above 
John,  Lord  Robarts,  whose  character  is  thus  portrayed  by  Lord  Clar- 
endon :  "  Though  of  good  understanding,  he  was  of  so  morose  a  nature, 
that  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  treat  with  him.  He  had  some  pedantic 
parts  of  learning,  which  made  his  other  parts  of  judgment  the  wor.st. 
lie  was  naturally  proud  and  imperious,  which  humor  was  increased  by 
an  ill  education  ;  for,  excepting  some  3  ears  spent  in  the  Inns  of  Court, 
he  might  very  justly  be  said  to  have  been  born  and  bred  in  Cornwall. 
When  lord-deputy  in  Ireland,  he  received  tlie  information  of  the  chief 
13 


194 


MEMOIRS  OF  COl'NT  GRAMMONT. 


her  beauty  was  striking;  yet,  notwithstanding  the  bright- 
ness of  the  finest  complexion,  with  all  the  bloom  of 
yonth,  and  with  every  requisite  for  inspiring  desire,  she 
nevertheless  was  not  attractive.  The  Duke  of  York, 
however,  would  probably  have  been  successful  if  diffi- 
culties, almost  insurmountable,  had  not  disappointed  his 
good  intentions:  Lord  Robarts,  her  husband,  was  an  old, 
snarling,  troublesome,  peevish  fellow,  in  love  with  her 
to  distraction,  and  to  complete  her  misery,  a  perpetual 
attendant  on  her  person. 

She  perceived  his  Royal  Highness's  attachment  to  her, 
and  seemed  as  if  she  was  inclined  to  be  grateful  :  this 
redoubled  his  eagerness,  and  every  outward  mark  of 
tenderness  he  could  possibly  show  her  ;  but  the  watchful 
husband  redoubling  his  zeal  and  assiduity,  as  he  found 
the  approaches  advance,  every  art  was  practised  to  ren- 
der him  tractable :  several  attacks  were  made  upon  his 
avarice  and  his  ambition.  Those  who  possessed  the 
greatest  share  of  his  confidence,  insinuated  to  him  that  it 
was  his  own  fault  if  Lady  Robarts,  who  was  so  worthy  of 
being  at  court,  was  not  received  into  some  considerable 
post,  either  about  the  queen  or  the  duchess  :  he  was 
offered  to  be  made  Lord  Lieutenant  of  the  county  where 
his  estate  was  ;  or  to  have  the  management  of  the  Duke 
of  York's  revenues  in  Ireland,  of  which  he  should  have 
the  entire  disposal,  provided  he  immediately  set  out  to 
take  possession  of  his  charge  ;  and  having  accomplished 
it,  he  might  return  as  soon  as  ever  he  thought  proper. 


persons  there  so  negligently,  and  gave  his  answers  so  scornfully,  that 
they  besought  the  king  that  they  might  not  be  obliged  to  attend  him 
any  more  :  but  he  was  not  a  man  that  was  to  be  disgraced  and  thrown 
off  without  much  inconvenience  and  hazard.  He  had  parts,  which  in 
council  and  parliament,  were  very  troublesome  ;  for,  of  all  men  alive, 
who  had  so  few  friends,  he  had  the  most  followers.  They  who  con- 
versed most  with  him  knew  Inm  to  have  main-  humors  which  were 
very  intolerable  ;  they  who  were  but  little  aocjuainted  with  him  took 
him  to  be  a  man  of  much  knowledge,  and  called  his  morosity  gravity." 
— Continuation  of  Clarendon,  p.  102. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


195 


He  perfectly  well  understood  the  meaning  of  these 
proposals,  and  was  fnlh*  apjDrised  of  the  advantages  he 
might  reap  from  them  :  in  vain  did  ambition  and  avarice 
hold  out  their  allurements  ;  he  was  deaf  to  all  their 
temptations,  nor  conld  ever  the  old  fellow  be  persuaded 
to  be  made  a  cuckold.  It  is  not  always  an  aversion  to, 
or  a  dread  of  this  distinction,  which  preserves  us  from  it: 
of  this  her  husband  was  very  sensible  ;  therefore,  under 
the  pretence  of  a  pilgrimage  to  Saint  Winifred,  the  vir- 
gin and  martyr,  who  was  said  to  cure  women  of  barren- 
ness, he  did  not  rest,  tuitil  the  highest  mountains  in 
Wales  were  between  his  wife  and  the  person  who  had 
designed  to  perform  this  miracle  in  London,  after  his 
departure. 

The  duke  was  for  some  time  entirely  taken  up  with 
the  pleasures  of  the  chase,  and  only  now  and  then  en- 
gaged in  those  of  love  ;  but  his  taste  having  undergone 
a  change  in  this  j^articular,  and  the  remembrance  of  Lady 
Robarts  wearing  off  by  degrees,  his  eyes  and  wishes  were 
turned  towards  Miss  Brook  ;  and  it  was  in  the  height  of 
this  pursuit  that  Lady  Chesterfield  threw  herself  into  his 
arms,  as  we  shall  see  by  resuming  the  sequel  of  her  ad- 
ventures. 

The  Earl  of  Bristol,*  ever  restless  and  ambitious,  had 


*  George  Digbj-.  The  account  here  given  of  the  practices  of  this 
nobleman  receives  confirmation  from  Lord  Clarendon,  who  observes 
of  him,  ''that  he  had  left  no  way  unattempted  to  render  himself 
gracious  to  the  king,  by  saj  ing  and  doing  all  that  might  be  acceptable 
unto  him,  and  contriving  such  meetings  and  jollities  as  he  was  pleased 
with." — Continuation  of  his  Life,  p.  208.  Lord  Orford  says  of  him, 
that  "his  life  was  cue  contradiction.  He  wrote  against  popery,  and 
embraced  it ;  he  was  a  zealous  opposer  of  the  court,  and  a  sacrifice  to 
it ;  was  conscientiously  converted  in  the  midst  of  his  prosecution  of 
Lord  Strafford,  and  was  most  unconscientiously  a  prosecutor  of  Lord 
Clarendon.  With  great  parts,  he  always  hurt  himself  and  his  friends  ; 
wth  romantic  braverj-,  he  was  always  an  unsuccessful  commander. 
He  spoke  for  the  Test  Act,  though  a  Roman  Catholic,  and  addicted 
himself  to  astrology  on  the  birthda}-  of  true  philosojihy." — Catalogue 
of  Royal  and  Xoblc  Aullioi  s,  vol.  ii.,  p.  25.    The  histories  of  England 


196  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


put  in  practice  every  art  to  possess  himself  of  the  king' s 
favor.  As  this  is  the  same  Digby  whom  Count  Bussy 
mentions  in  his  annals,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  say  that  he 
was  not  at  all  changed  :  he  knew  that  love  and  pleasure 
had  possession  of  a  master,  whom  he  himself  governed, 
in  defiance  of  the  chancellor ;  thus  he  was  continually 
giving  entertainments  at  his  house  ;  and  luxury  and 
elegance  seemed  to  rival  each  other  in  those  nocturnal 
feasts,  which  always  lead  to  other  enjo}-ments.  The  two 
Miss  Brooks,  his  relations,  were  always  of  those  parties  ; 
they  were  both  formed  by  nature  to  excite  love  in  others, 
as  well  as  to  be  susceptible  of  it  themselves  ;  they  were 
just  what  the  king  wanted  :  the  earl,  from  this  com- 
mencement, was  beginning  to  entertain  a  good  opinion 
of  his  project,  when  Lady  Castlemaine,  who  had  lately 
gained  entire  possession  of  the  king's  heart,  was  not  in  a 
humor,  at  that  time,  to  share  it  with  another,  as  she  did 
very  indiscreetly  afterwards,  despising  Miss  Stewart. 
As  soon,  therefore,  as  she  received  intimation  of  these 
secret  practices,  under  pretence  of  attending  the  king  in 
his  parties,  she  entirely  disconcerted  them ;  so  that  the 
earl  was  obliged  to  lay  aside  his  projects,  and  IMiss 
Brook  to  discontinue  her  advances.  The  king  did  not 
even  dare  to  think  any  more  on  this  subject  ;  but  his 
brother  was  pleased  to  look  after  what  he  neglected;  and 
Miss  Brook  accepted  the  offer  of  his  heart,  until  it  pleased 
heaven  to  dispose  of  her  otherwise,  which  happened  soon 
after  in  the  following  manner. 

Sir  John  Denham,*  loaded  with  wealth  as  well  as 


abound  with  the  adventures  of  this  inconsistent  nobleman,  who  died, 
neither  loved  nor  regretted  by  anj'  part}-,  in  the  }  ear  1676. 

*  That  Sir  John  Denham  "had  passed  his  3'outh  in  the  midst  of  those 
pleasures  which  people  at  that  age  indulge  in  without  restraint,"  all 
his  biographers  seem  to  admit  ;  but,  if  our  author  is  to  be  relied  on, 
Wood's  account  of  the  date  of  his  birth,  1615,  must  be  erroneous.  He 
was  not  loaded  with  years  when  he  died,  if  that  statement  is  true  ;  and 
so  far  from  being  seventy-nine  when  he  married  Miss  Brook,  he  had 
not  attained  the  age  of  more  than  fifty -three  when  he  died.    In  this 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  CiRAM.MONT. 


197 


years,  had  passed  his  youth  in  the  midst  of  those  pleas- 
ures which  people  at  that  age  indulge  in  without  re- 
straint ;  he  was  one  of  the  brightest  geniuses  England 
ever  produced,  for  wit  and  humor,  and  for  brilliancy  of 
composition :  satirical  and  free  in  his  poems,  he  spared 
neither  frigid  writers,  nor  jealous  hiisbands,  nor  even 
their  wives:  every'  part  abounded  with  the  most  poignant 
wit,  and  the  most  entertaining  stories  ;  but  his  most 
delicate  and  sj^irited  raillery  turned  generally  against 
matrimony  ;  and,  as  if  he  wished  to  confirm,  by  his  own 
example,  the  truth  of  what  he  had  written  in  his  youth, 
he  married,  at  the  age  of  sevent\  -nine,  this  Miss  Brook 
of  whom  we  are  speaking,  who  was  only  eighteen. 

The  Duke  of  York  had  rather  neglected  her  for  some 
time  before  ;  but  the  circumstance  of  so  unequal  a  match 
rekindled  his  ardor  ;  and  she,  on  her  part,  suffered  him 
to  entertain  hopes  of  an  approaching  bliss,  which  a 
thousand  considerations  had  opposed  before  her  mar- 
riage :  she  wished  to  belong  to  the  court  ;  and  for  the 
promise  of  being  made  lady  of  the  bedchamber  to  the 
duchess,  she  was  upon  the  point  of  making  him  another 
promise,  or  of  immediately  performing  it,  if  required, 
when,  in  the  middle  of  this  treat}-,  Lady  Chesterfield  was 
tempted,  by  her  evil  genius,  to  rob  her  of  her  conquest, 
in  order  to  distiirb  all  the  world. 

However,  as  Lady  Chesterfield  could  not  see  the  Duke 
of  York,  except  in  public  assemblies,  she  was  under  the 
necessity  of  making  the  most  extravagant  advances,  in 
order  to  .seduce  him  from  his  former  connection  ;  and  as 
he  was  the  most  unguarded  ogler  of  his  time,  the  whole 
court  w'as  informed  of  the  intrigue  before  it  was  well 
begun. 


particular,  I  am  inclined  to  doubt  the  accuracy  of  Wood,  who  omits 
to  mention  that  Sir  John  had  a  former  wife,  by  whom  he  had  a  dauj^h- 
ter.  Sir  John  died  19th  INIarch,  166S,  and  was  buried  in  Westminster- 
abbey. 


198 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Those  who  appeared  the  most  attentive  to  their  con- 
duct were  not  the  least  interested  in  it.  Hamilton  and 
Lord  Chesterfield  watched  them  narrowly  ;  but  Lady 
Denham,  vexed  that  Lady  Chesterfield  should  have 
stepped  in  before  her,  took  the  liberty  of  railing  against 
her  rival  with  the  greatest  bitterness.  Hamilton  had 
hitherto  flattered  himself  that  vanity  alone  had  engaged 
Lady  Chesterfield  in  this  adventure ;  but  he  was  soon 
undeceived,  whatever  her  indifference  might  have  been 
when  she  first  commenced  this  intrigue.  We  often  pro- 
ceed farther  than  we  at  first  intended,  when  we  indulge 
ourselves  in  trifling  liberties  which  we  think  of  no  con- 
sequence ;  for  though  perhaps  the  heart  takes  no  part 
at  the  beginning,  it  seldom  fails  to  be  engaged  in  the  end. 

The  court,  as  we  have  mentioned  before,  was  an  entire 
scene  of  gallantry  and  amusements,  with  all  the  polite- 
ness and  magnificence  which  the  inclinations  of  a  prince 
naturally  addicted  to  tenderness  and  pleasure  could  sug- 
gest :  the  beauties  were  desirous  of  charming,  and  the 
men  endeavored  to  please  :  all  studied  to  set  themselves 
off  to  the  best  advantage  :  some  distinguished  themselves 
by  dancing  ;  others  by  show  and  magnificence  ;  some 
by  their  wit,  many  by  their  amoiirs,  but  few  by  their 
constancy.  There  was  a  certain  Italian  at  court,  famous 
for  the  guitar :  he  had  a  genius  for  music,  and  he  was 
the  only  man  who  could  make  anything  of  the  guitar  : 
his  style  of  play  was  so  full  of  grace  and  tenderness,  that 
he  would  have  given  harmony  to  the  most  discordant 
instruments.  The  truth  is,  nothing  was  so  difficult  as 
to  play  like  this  foreigner.  The  king's  relish  for  his 
compositions  had  broiight  the  instrument  so  much  into 
vogue,  that  every  person  played  upon  it,  well  or  ill ;  and 
you  were  as  sure  to  see  a  guitar  on  a  lady's  toilet  as  rouge 
or  patches.  The  Duke  of  York  played  upon  it  tolerably 
well,  and  the  Earl  of  Arran  like  Francisco  himself 
This  Francisco  had  composed  a  saraband,  which  either 
charmed  or  infatuated  every  person  ;   for  the  whole 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


199 


giiitarery  at  court  were  trying  at  it ;  and  God  knows 
what  an  universal  strumming  there  was.  The  Duke  of 
York,  pretending  not  to  be  perfect  in  it,  desired  Lord 
Arran  to  play  it  to  him.  Lady  Chesterfield  had  the  best 
guitar  in  England.  The  Earl  of  Arran,  who  was  de- 
sirous of  playing  his  best,  conducted  his  Royal  Highness 
to  his  sister's  apartments  :  she  was  lodged  at  court,  at 
her  father's,  the  Duke  of  Ormond's  ;  and  this  wonderful 
guitar  was  lodged  there  too.  Whether  this  visit  had 
been  preconcerted  or  not,  I  do  not  pretend  to  say ;  but 
it  is  certain  that  they  found  both  the  lady  and  the  guitar 
at  home  :  they  likewise  found  there  Lord  Chesterfield, 
so  much  surprised  at  this  unexpected  visit,  that  it  was  a 
considerable  time  before  he  thought  of  rising  from  his 
seat  to  receive  them  with  due  respect. 

Jealousy,  like  a  malignant  vapor,  now  seized  upon  his 
brain  :  a  thousand  suspicions,  blacker  than  ink,  took 
possession  of  his  imagination,  and  were  continually  in- 
creasing ;  for,  whilst  the  brother  played  upon  the  guitar 
to  the  duke,  the  sister  ogled  and  accompanied  him  with 
her  eyes,  as  if  the  coast  had  been  clear,  and  no  enemy  to 
observe  them.  This  saraband  was  at  least  repeated 
twenty  times  :  the  duke  declared  it  was  played  to  per- 
fection :  Lady  Chesterfield  found  fault  with  the  compo- 
sition ;  but  her  husband,  who  clearly  perceived  that  he 
was  the  person  played  upon,  thought  it  a  most  detestable 
piece.  However,  though  he  was  in  the  last  agony  at 
being  obliged  to  curb  his  passion  while  others  gave  a  free 
scope  to  theirs,  he  was  resoh^ed  to  find  out  the  drift  of  the 
visit ;  but  it  was  not  in  his  power :  for,  having  the  honor 
to  be  chamberlain  to  the  queen,  a  messenger  came  to  re- 
quire his  immediate  attendance  on  Her  IVIajesty.  His 
first  thought  was  to  pretend  sickness  :  the  second  to  sus- 
pect that  the  queen,  who  sent  for  him  at  such  an  un- 
seasonable time,  was  in  the  plot ;  but  at  last,  after  all  the 
extravagant  ideas  of  a  suspicious  man,  and  all  the  irreso- 
lutions of  a  jealous  husband,  he  was  obliged  to  go. 


200  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


We  may  easily  imagine  what  his  state  of  mind  was 
when  he  arrived  at  the  palace.  Alarms  are  to  the  jealous 
what  disasters  are  to  the  unfortunate :  they  seldom  come 
alone,  but  form  a  series  of  persecution.  He  was  informed 
that  he  was  sent  for  to  attend  the  queen  at  an  audience 
she  gave  to  seven  or  eight  Muscovite  ambassadors:  he  had 
scarce  begun  to  curse  the  Muscovites,  when  his  brother- 
in-law  appeared,  and  drew  upon  himself  all  the  impre- 
cations he  bestowed  upon  the  embassy :  he  no  longer 
doubted  his  being  in  the  plot  with  the  two  persons  he 
had  left  together,  and  in  his  heart  sincerely  wished  him 
such  recompense  for  his  good  offices  as  such  good  offices 
deserved.  It  was  with  great  difficiilty  that  he  restrained 
himself  from  immediately  acquainting  him  what  was 
his  opinion  of  such  conduct :  he  thought  that  what  he 
had  already  seen  was  a  sufficient  proof  of  his  wife's  infi- 
delity ;  but  before  the  end  of  the  very  same  day,  some 
circumstances  occurred  which  increased  his  suspicions, 
and  persuaded  him  that  they  had  taken  advantage  of  his 
absence,  and  of  the  honorable  officiousness  of  his  brother- 
in-law.  He  passed,  however,  that  night  with  tranquil- 
lity ;  but  the  next  morning,  being  reduced  to  the  neces- 
sity either  of  biu'sting  or  giving  vent  to  his  sorrows  and 
conjectures,  he  did  nothing  but  think  and  walk  about 
the  room  until  Park-time.  He  went  to  court,  seemed 
very  busy,  as  if  seeking  for  some  person  or  other,  imag- 
ining that  people  guessed  at  the  subject  of  his  uneasi- 
ness :  he  avoided  everybody,  but  at  length  meeting  with 
Hamilton,  he  thought  he  was  the  very  man  that  he 
wanted  ;  and,  having  desired  him  to  take  an  airing  with 
him  in  Hyde  Park,  he  took  him  i;p  in  his  coach,  and 
they  arrived  at  the  Ring,  without  a  word  having  passed 
between  them. 

Hamilton,  who  saw  him  as  yellow  as  jealousy  itself, 
and  particularly  thoughtful,  imagined  that  he  had  just 
discovered  what  all  the  world  had  perceived  long  before  ; 
when  Chesterfield,  after  a  broken,  insignificant  preamble, 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


201 


asked  him  how  he  succeeded  with  Lady  Castlemaine. 
Hamilton,  who  very  well  saw  that  he  meant  nothing  by 
this  question,  nevertheless  thanked  him  ;  and  as  he  was 
thinking  of  an  answer:  "Your  consin,"  said  the  earl, 
"is  extremely  coquettish,  and  I  have  some  reason  to 
snppose  she  is  not  so  prndent  as  she  ought  to  be."  Ham- 
ilton thought  the  last  charge  a  little  too  severe  ;  and  as 
he  was  endeavoring  to  refute  it :  "  Good  God  !"  said  my 
lord,  "you  see,  as  well  as  the  whole  court,  what  airs  she 
gives  herself:  husbands  are  always  the  last  people  that 
are  spoken  to  about  those  affairs  that  concern  them  the 
most ;  but  they  are  not  alwa}'s  the  last  to  perceive  it 
themselves :  though  you  have  made  me  your  confidant 
in  other  matters,  yet  I  am  not  at  all  surprised  you  have 
concealed  this  from  me  ;  but  as  I  flatter  myself  with  hav- 
ing some  share  in  j-our  esteem,  I  should  be  sorry  you 
should  think  me  such  a  fool  as  to  be  incapable  of  seeing, 
though  I  am  so  complaisant  as  not  to  express  my  senti- 
ments :  nevertheless,  I  find  that  affairs  are  now  carried 
on  with  such  barefaced  boldness,  that  at  length  I  find  I 
shall  be  forced  to  take  some  course  or  other.  God  for- 
bid that  I  should  act  the  ridiculous  part  of  a  jealoiis  hus- 
band :  the  character  is  odious ;  but  then  I  do  not  intend, 
through  an  excess  of  patience,  to  be  made  the  jest  of  the 
town.  Judge,  therefore,  from  what  I  am  going  to  tell 
you,  whether  I  ought  to  sit  down  unconcerned,  or 
whether  I  ought  to  take  measures  for  the  preservation 
of  my  honor. 

"His  Royal  Highness  honored  me  yesterday  by  a  visit 
to  my  wife."  Hamilton  started  at  this  beginning. 
"  Yes,"  continued  the  other,  "  he  did  give  himself  that 
trouble,  and  Lord  Arran  took  upon  himself  that  of 
bringing  him:  do  not  you  wonder  tliat  a  man  of  his  birth 
should  act  such  a  part  ?  What  advancement  can  he  ex- 
pect from  one  who  employs  him  in  such  base  services? 
But  we  have  long  known  him  to  be  one  of  the  silliest 
creatures  in  England,  with  his  guitar,  and  his  other 


202 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


whims  and  follies."  Chesterfield,  after  this  short  sketch 
of  his  brother-in-law's  merit,  began  to  relate  the  obser- 
vations he  had  made  dnring  the  visit,  and  asked  Hamil- 
ton what  he  thought  of  his  cousin  Arran,  who  had  so 
obligingly  left  them  together.  "  This  may  appear  sur- 
prising to  you,"  continued  he,  "but  hear  me  out,  and 
judge  whether  I  have  reason  to  think  that  the  close  of 
this  pretty  visit  passed  in  perfect  innocence.  Lady 
Chesterfield  is  amiable,  it  must  be  acknowledged  ;  but 
she  is  far  from  being  such  a  miracle  of  beauty  as  she 
supposes  herself :  you  know  she  has  ugly  feet  ;  but  per- 
haps you  are  not  acquainted  that  she  has  still  worse  legs. " 
"  Pardon  me,"  said  Hamilton,  within  himself:  and  the 
other,  continuing  the  description  :  "her  legs,"  said  his 
lordship,  "are  short  and  thick;  and,  to  remedy  these  de- 
fects as  much  as  possible,  she  seldom  wears  any  other 
than  green  stockings." 

Hamilton  could  not  for  his  life  imagine  the  drift  of  all 
this  discourse,  and  Chesterfield,  guessing  his  thoughts  : 
"  Have  a  little  patience,"  said  he  ;  "I  went  yesterday  to 
Miss  Stewart's,  after  the  audience  of  those  d — d  Musco- 
vites: the  king  arrived  there  just  before  me;  and  as  if  the 
duke  had  sworn  to  pursue  me  wherever  I  went  that  day, 
he  came  in  just  after  me.  The  conversation  turned  upon 
the  extraordinary  appearance  of  the  ambassadors.  I 
know  not  where  that  fool  Crofts  had  heard  that  all  these 
Muscovites  had  handsome  wives;  and  that  all  their  wives 
had  handsome  legs.  Upon  this  the  king  maintained 
that  no  woman  ever  had  such  handsome  legs  as  Miss 
Stewart;  and  she  to  prove  the  truth  of  His  Majesty's  as- 
sertion, with  the  greatest  imaginable  ease,  immediately 
showed  her  leg  above  the  knee.  Some  were  ready  to 
prostrate  themselves,  in  order  to  adore  its  beauty  ;  for 
indeed  none  can  be  handsomer;  but  the  duke  alone  began 
to  criticise  upon  it.  He  contended  that  it  was  too  slen- 
der, and  that  as  for  himself,  he  would  give  nothing  for  a 
leg  that  was  uot  thicker  and  shorter,  and  concluded  by 


'JBBBIB  ftCO. 


mi;moir.s  of  count  grammoxt. 


saying  that  no  leg  was  worth  anything  withont  green 
stockings.  Now  this,  in  my  opinion,  was  a  sufficient 
demonstration  that  he  had  just  seen  green  stockings,  and 
had  them  fresh  in  his  remembrance." 

Hamilton  was  at  a  loss  what  countenance  to  put  on 
during  a  narrative  which  raised  in  him  nearly  the  same 
conjectiires  ;  he  .shrugged  iip  his  shoulders,  and  faintly 
said  that  appearances  were  often  deceitful  ;  that  Lady 
Chesterfield  had  the  foible  of  all  beauties,  who  place  their 
merit  on  the  number  of  their  admirers  ;  and  whatever  airs 
she  might  imprudently  have  given  herself,  in  order  not 
to  discourage  his  Royal  Highness,  there  was  no  ground  to 
suppose  that  .she  would  indulge  him  in  any  greater  lib- 
erties to  engage  him:  but  in  vain  was  it  that  he  endeav- 
ored to  give  that  consolation  to  his  friend  which  he  did 
not  feel  himself  Chesterfield  plainly  perceived  that  he 
did  not  think  of  what  he  was  .saying;  however,  he  thought 
himself  much  obliged  to  him  for  the  interest  he  seemed 
to  take  in  his  concerns. 

Hamilton  was  in  haste  to  go  home  to  vent  his  spleen 
and  resentment  in  a  letter  to  his  cou.sin.  The  style  of 
this  billet  was  very  difi"erent  from  those  which  he  for- 
merly was  accustomed  to  write  to  her  :  reproaches,  bitter 
expostulations,  tenderness,  menaces,  and  all  the  effusions 
of  a  lover  who  thinks  he  has  reason  to  complain,  com- 
posed this  epistle  ;  which,  for  fear  of  accidents,  he  went 
to  deliA/er  himself 

Never  did  she  before  appear  so  lovely,  and  never  did 
her  eyes  speak  so  kindly  to  him  as  at  this  moment  :  liis 
heart  quite  relented  ;  but  he  was  determined  not  to  lose 
all  the  fine  things  he  had  said  in  his  letter.  In  receiving 
it,  she  .squeezed  his  hand  :  this  action  completely  dis- 
armed him,  and  he  would  have  given  his  life  to  have 
had  this  letter  again.  It  appeared  to  him  at  this  instant 
that  all  the  grievances  he  complained  of  were  vi.sionary 
and  groundless  :  he  looked  upon  her  hu,sband  as  a  mad- 
man and  an  impostor,  and  quite  the  reverse  of  what  he 


204 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


supposed  him  to  be  a  few  minutes  before  ;  but  this  re- 
morse came  a  little  too  late  :  he  had  delivered  his  billet, 
and  Lady  Chesterfield  had  shown  such  impatience  and 
eagerness  to  read  it  as  soon  as  she  had  got  it  that  all 
circumstances  seemed  to  conspire  to  justify  her,  and  to 
confound  him.  She  managed  to  get  quit,  some  way  or 
other,  of  some  troublesome  visitors,  to  slip  into  her 
closet.  He  thought  himself  so  culpable  that  he  had  not 
the  assurance  to  wait  her  return  :  he  withdrew  with  the 
rest  of  the  company  ;  but  he  did  not  dare  to  appear 
before  her  the  next  day,  to  have  an  answer  to  his  letter  : 
however,  he  met  her  at  court  ;  and  this  was  the  first 
time,  since  the  commencement  of  their  amour,  that  he 
did  not  seek  for  her.  He  stood  at  a  distance,  with  down- 
cast looks,  and  appeared  in  such  terribe  embarrassment 
that  his  condition  was  sufficient  to  raise  laughter  or  to 
cause  pity,  when  Lady  Chesterfield  approaching,  thus 
accosted  him:  "Confess,"  said  she,  "that  you  are  in 
as  foolish  a  situation  as  any  man  of  sense  can  be  :  you 
wish  you  had  not  written  to  me  :  you  are  desirous  of  an 
answer  :  you  hope  for  none  :  yet  you  equally  wish  for 
and  dread  it  :  I  have,  however,  written  you  one."  She 
had  not  time  to  say  more  ;  but  the  few  words  she  had 
spoken  were  accompanied  with  such  an  air,  and  such  a 
look,  as  to  make  him  believe  that  it  was  Venus  with  all 
her  graces  who  had  addressed  him.  He  was  near  her 
when  she  sat  down  to  cards,  and  as  he  was  puzzling 
himself  to  devise  by  what  means  he  should  get  this 
answer,  she  desired  him  to  lay  her  gloves  and  fan  down 
somewhere  :  he  took  them,  and  with  them  the  billet  in 
question  ;  and  as  he  had  perceived  nothing  severe  or 
angry  in  the  conversation  he  had  with  her,  he  hastened 
to  open  her  letter,  and  read  as  follows  : 

"  Your  transports  are  so  ridiculous  that  it  is  doing 
you  a  favor  to  attribute  them  to  an  excess  of  tenderness, 
which  turns  your  head  :  a  man,  without  doubt,  must 
have  a  great  inclination  to  be  jealous,  to  entertain  such 


MKMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMiMONT. 


205 


an  idea  of  the  person  you  mention,  (k)od  (iod  !  what  a 
lover  to  have  caused  uneasiness  to  a  man  of  genius,  and 
what  a  genius  to  have  got  the  better  of  mine  !  Are  not 
you  ashamed  to  give  any  credit  to  the  visions  of  a  jealous 
fellow  who  brought  nothing  else  with  him  from  Italy  ? 
Is  it  possible  that  the  story  of  the  green  stockings,  upon 
which  he  has  founded  his  suspicions,  should  have  im- 
posed upon  you,  accompanied  as  it  is  with  such  pitiful 
circumstances  ?  Since  he  has  made  you  his  confidant, 
why  did  not  he  boast  of  breaking  in  pieces  my  poor 
harmless  guitar?  This  exploit,  perhaps,  might  have 
convinced  }  ou  naore  than  all  the  rest  :  recollect  yourself, 
and  if  you  are  really  in  love  with  me,  thank  fortune  for 
a  groundless  jealousy,  which  diverts  to  another  quarter 
the  attention  he  might  pay  to  my  attachment  for  the  most 
amiable  and  the  most  dangerous  man  of  the  court." 

Hamilton  was  ready  to  weep  for  joy  at  these  endear- 
ing marks  of  kindness,  of  which  he  thought  himself  so 
unworthy:  he  was  not  satisfied  with  kissing,  in  raptures, 
every  part  of  this  billet;  he  al.so  kissed  .several  times  her 
gloves  and  her  fan.  Play  being  over.  Lady  Chesterfield 
received  them  from  his  hands,  and  read  in  his  eyes  the 
joy  that  her  billet  had  raised  in  his  heart.  Nor  was  he 
sati-sfied  with  expressing  his  raptures,  only  by  looks  :  he 
hastened  home,  and  wrote  to  her  at  least  four  times  as 
much.  How  difierent  was  this  letter  from  the  other  ! 
Though  perhaps  not  so  well  written  ;  for  one  does  not 
show  so  much  wit  in  suing  for  pardon  as  in  venting  re- 
proaches, and  it  seldom  happens  that  the  soft,  languish- 
ing style  of  a  love-letter  is  so  penetrating  as  that  of 
invective. 

Re  that  as  it  may,  his  peace  was  made  :  their  past 
quarrel  gave  new  life  to  their  correspondence  ;  and  Lady 
Chesterfield,  to  make  him  as  eas)'  as  he  had  before  been 
distrustful,  expressed  on  every  occasion  a  feigned  con- 
tempt for  his  rival,  and  a  sincere  aversion  for  her  hus- 
band. 


200 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


So  great  was  his  confidence  in  her,  that  he  consented 
she  should  show  in  public  some  marks  of  attention  to 
the  duke,  in  order  to  conceal  as  much  as  possible  their 
private  intelligence.  Thus,  at  this  time  nothing  dis- 
turbed his  peace  of  mind,  but  his  impatience  of  finding 
a  favorable  opportunity  for  the  completion  of  his  desires: 
he  thought  it  was  in  her  power  to  command  it  ;  but  she 
excused  herself  on  account  of  several  difficulties  which 
she  enmnerated  to  him,  and  which  she  was  desiroiis  he 
should  remove  by  his  industry  and  attentions. 

This  silenced  his  complaints  ;  but  whilst  he  was  en- 
deavoring to  surmount  these  obstacles,  still  wondering 
how  it  was  possible  that  two  persons  who  were  so  well 
disposed  to  each  other,  and  who  were  agreed  to  make 
each  other  happy,  could  not  put  their  designs  in  exe- 
cution, accident  discovered  an  unexpected  adventure, 
which  left  him  no  room  to  doubt,  either  of  the  happi- 
ness of  his  rival,  or  of  the  perfidy  of  his  mistress. 

Misfortunes  often  fall  light  when  most  feared;  and  fre- 
quently prove  heaviest  when  merited,  and  when  least 
suspected.  Hamilton  was  in  the  middle  of  the  most 
tender  and  passionate  letter  he  had  ever  written  to  Lady 
Chesterfield,  when  her  husband  came  to  announce  to 
him  the  particulars  of  this  last  discovery  :  he  came  so 
suddenly  upon  him,  that  he  had  only  just  time  to  con- 
ceal his  amorous  epistle  among  his  other  papers.  His 
heart  and  mind  were  still  so  full  of  what  he  was  writing 
to  his  cousin,  that  her  husband's  complaints  against 
her,  at  first,  were  scarce  attended  to  ;  besides,  in  his 
opinion,  he  had  come  in  the  most  unfortunate  moment 
on  all  accounts. 

He  was,  however,  obliged  to  listen  to  him,  and  he 
soon  entertained  quite  different  sentiments  :  he  appeared 
almost  petrified  with  astonishment,  while  the  earl  was 
relating  to  him  circumstances  of  such  an  extravagant  in- 
discretion, as  seemed  to  him  quite  incredible,  notwith- 
standing the  ^particulars  of  the  fact.     "  You  have  reason 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


207 


to  be  surprised  at  it,"  said  my  lord,  concluding  his  story; 
"but  if  you  doubt  the  truth  of  what  I  tell  you,  it  will 
be  easy  for  you  to  find  evidence  that  will  convince  you  ; 
for  the  scene  of  their  tender  familiarities  was  no  less  pub- 
lic than  the  room  where  the  queen  pla)  s  at  cards,  which, 
while  her  majesty  was  at  play,  was,  God  knows,  pretty 
well  crowded.  lyady  Denhani  was  the  first  who  dis- 
covered what  they  thought  would  pass  unperceived  in 
the  crowd  ;  and  you  may  very  well  judge  how  secret  she 
would  keep  such  a  circumstance.  The  truth  is,  she  ad- 
dressed herself  to  me  first  of  all,  as  I  entered  the  room, 
to  tell  me  that  I  should  give  my  wife  a  little  advice,  as 
other  people  might  take  notice  of  what  I  might  see  my- 
self, if  I  pleased. 

' '  Your  cousin  was  at  play,  as  I  before  told  you  :  the 
duke  was  sitting  next  to  her  :  I  know  not  what  was  be- 
come of  his  hand  ;  but  I  am  sure  that  no  one  could  see 
his  arm  below  the  elbow  :  I  was  standing  behind  them, 
just  in  the  place  that  Lady  Denham  had  quitted  :  the 
duke  turning  round  perceived  me,  and  was  so  much  dis- 
turbed at  my  presence,  that  he  almost  undressed  my  lady 
in  pulling  away  his  hand.  I  know  not  whether  they 
perceived  that  they  were  discovered  ;  but  of  this  I  am 
convinced,  that  Lady  Denham  will  take  care  that  every- 
body shall  know  it.  I  must  confess  to  you,  that  my 
embarrassment  is  so  great,  that  I  cannot  find  words  to 
express  what  I  now  feel  :  I  should  not  hesitate  one  mo- 
ment what  cotirse  to  take,  if  I  might  be  allowed  to  show 
my  resentment  against  the  person  who  has  wronged  me. 
As  for  her,  I  could  manage  her  well  enough,  if,  mi- 
worthy  as  she  is  of  any  consideration,  I  had  not  still 
some  regard  for  an  illustrious  family,  that  would  be  dis- 
tracted were  I  to  resent  such  an  injury  as  it  deserves. 
In  this  particular  you  are  interested  yourself :  you  are 
my  friend,  and  I  make  you  my  confidant  in  an  affair  of 
the  greatest  imaginable  delicacy  :  let  us  then  consult  to- 
gether what  is  proper  to  be  done  in  so  perplexing  and 
disagreeable  a  situation." 


208  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Hamilton,  if  possible,  more  astonished,  and  more  con- 
founded than  himself,  was  far  from  being  in  a  proper 
state  to  afford  him  advice  on  the  present  occasion  :  he 
listened  to  nothing  but  jealousy,  and  breathed  nothing 
but  revenge;  but  these  emotions  being  somewhat  abated, 
in  hopes  that  there  might  be  calumny,  or  at  least  exag- 
geration in  the  charges  against  lyady  Chesterfield,  he 
desired  her  husband  to  suspend  his  resolutions,  until  he 
was  more  fully  informed  of  the  fact;  assuring  him,  how- 
ever, that  if  he  found  the  circumstances  such  as  he  had 
related,  he  should  regard  and  consult  no  other  interest 
than  his. 

Upon  this  they  parted  ;  and  Hamilton  found,  on  the 
first  inquiry,  that  almost  the  whole  court  was  informed 
of  the  adventure,  to  which  every  one  added  something 
in  relating  it.  Vexation  and  resentment  inflamed  his 
heart,  and  by  degrees  extinguished  every  remnant  of  his 
former  passion. 

He  might  easily  have  seen  her,  and  have  made  her 
such  reproaches  as  a  man  is  generally  inclined  to  do  on 
such  occasions  ;  but  he  was  too  much  enraged  to  enter 
into  any  detail  which  might  have  led  to  an  explanation: 
he  considered  himself  as  the  only  person  essentially  in- 
jured in  this  affair  ;  for  he  could  never  bring  his  mind 
to  think  that  the  injuries  of  the  husband  could  be  placed 
in  competition  with  those  of  the  lover. 

He  hastened  to  Lord  Chesterfield,  in  the  transport  of 
his  passion,  and  told  him  that  he  had  heard  enough  to 
induce  him  to  give  such  advice,  as  he  should  follow  him- 
.self  in  the  same  situation,  and  that  if  he  wished  to  save 
a  woman  so  strongly  prepossessed,  and  who  perliaps  had 
not  }-et  lost  all  her  innocence,  though  she  had  totally 
lost  her  reason,  he  ought  not  to  delay  one  single  instant, 
but  immediately  to  carry  her  into  the  country  with  the 
greatest  possible  expedition,  without  allowing  her  the 
least  time  to  recover  her  surprise. 

Lord  Chesterfield  readily  agreed  to  follow  this  advice, 


GEBBIE  &  C  O 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


209 


which  he  had  already  considered  as  the  only  counsel  a 
friend  conld  give  him  ;  but  his  lady,  who  did  not  suspect 
he  had  made  this  last  discovery  of  her  conduct,  thought 
he  was  joking  with  her,  when  he  told  her  to  prepare  for 
going  into  the  country  in  two  days  :  she  was  the  more 
induced  to  think  so  as  it  was  in  the  very  middle  of  an 
extremely  severe  winter  ;  but  she  soon  perceived  that  he 
was  in  earnest  :  she  knew  from  the  air  and  manuer  of 
her  husband  that  he  thought  he  had  sufficient  reason  to 
treat  her  in  this  imperious  style  ;  and  finding  all  her  re- 
lations serious  and  cold  to  her  complaint,  she  had  no 
hope  left  in  this  universally  abandoned  situation  but  in 
the  tenderness  of  Hamilton.  She  imagined  she  should 
hear  from  him  the  cause  of  her  misfortunes,  of  which 
she  was  still  totally  ignorant,  and  that  his  love  would 
invent  some  means  or  other  to  prevent  a  journey  which 
she  flattered  herself  would  be  even  more  aflfecting  to  him 
than  to  herself ;  but  she  was  expecting  pity  from  a 
crocodile. 

At  last,  when  she  saw  the  eve  of  her  departure  was 
come,  that  every  preparation  was  made  for  a  long  jour- 
ney ;  that  she  was  receiving  farewell  visits  iu  form,  and 
that  still  she  heard  nothing  from  Hamilton,  both  her 
hopes  and  her  patience  forsook  her  in  this  wretched  situ- 
ation. A  few  tears  perhaps  might  have  afforded  her  some 
relief,  but  she  chose  rather  to  deny  herself  that  comfort, 
than  to  give  her  husband  so  much  satisfaction.  Hamil- 
ton's conduct  on  this  occasion  appeared  to  her  unac- 
countable ;  and  as  he  still  never  came  near  her,  she  found 
means  to  convey  to  him  the  following  billet. 

"Is  it  possible  that  you  should  be  one  of  those,  who, 
without  vouchsafing  to  tell  me  for  what  crime  I  am 
treated  like  a  slave,  suffer  me  to  be  dragged  from  so- 
ciety? What  means  yom  silence  and  indolence  in  a 
juncture  wherein  your  tenderness  ought  most  particu- 
larly to  appear,  and  actively  exert  itself?  I  am  upon  the 
point  of  departing,  and  am  ashamed  to  think  that  you 
14 


210  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


are  the  cause  of  my  looking  upon  it  with  horror,  as  I 
have  reason  to  believe  that  yon  are  less  concerned  at  it 
than  any  other  person  :  do,  at  least,  let  me  know  to  what 
place  I  am  to  be  dragged  ;  what  is  to  be  done  with  me 
within  a  wilderness?  and  on  what  accomit  you,  like  all 
the  rest  of  the  world,  appear  changed  in  your  behavior 
towards  a  person  whom  all  the  world  could  not  oblige 
to  change  with  regard  to  you,  if  yoiir  weakness  or  your 
ingratitude  did  not  render  you  unworthy  of  her  tender- 
ness. ' ' 

This  billet  did  but  harden  his  heart,  and  make  him 
more  proud  of  his  vengeance  :  he  swallowed  down  full 
draughts  of  pleasure  in  beholding  her  reduced  to  despair, 
being  persuaded  that  her  grief  and  regret  for  her  de- 
parture were  on  account  of  another  person  :  he  felt  un- 
common satisfaction  in  having  a  share  in  tormenting  her, 
and  was  particularly  pleased  with  the  scheme  he  had 
contrived  to  separate  her  from  a  rival  upon  the  very'  point 
perhaps  of  being  made  happy.  Thus  fortified  as  he  was 
against  his  natural  tenderness,  with  all  the  severity  of 
jealous  resentment,  he  saw  her  depart  with  an  indiffer- 
ence which  he  did  not  even  endeavor  to  conceal  from 
lier  :  this  unexpected  treatment,  joined  to  the  complica- 
tion of  her  other  misfortunes,  had  almost  in  reality 
phinged  her  into  despair. 

The  court  was  filled  with  the  stor)-  of  this  adventure  ; 
nobody  was  ignorant  of  the  occasion  of  this  sudden  de- 
parture, but  very  few  approved  of  Lord  Chesterfield's 
conduct.  In  England  they  looked  with  astonishment 
upon  a  man  who  could  be  so  uncivil  as  to  be  jealous  of 
his  wife  ;  and  in  the  city  of  London  it  was  a  prodigy,  till 
that  time  unknown,  to  see  a  husband  have  recourse  to 
violent  means,  to  prevent  what  jealousy  fears,  and  what 
it  always  deserves.  They  endeavored,  however,  to  ex- 
cuse poor  Lord  Chesterfield,  as  far  as  they  could  safely 
do  it,  withoiit  incurring  the  public  odium,  by  laying  all 
the  blame  on  his  bad  education.    This  made  all  the 


MEMOIR.S  OF  COUNT  CRAMMONT. 


211 


mothers  vow  to  God  that  none  of  their  sons  should  ever 
set  a  foot  in  Italy,  lest  they  should  bring  back  with 
them  that  infamous  custom  of  laj  ing  restraint  upon  their 
wives. 

As  this  story  for  a  long  time  took  up  the  attention  of 
the  court,  the  Chevalier  de  Gramniont,  who  was  not 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  all  the  particulars,  inveighed 
more  bitterly  than  all  the  citizens  of  London  put  to- 
gether against  this  tyranny  ;  and  it  was  upon  this  occa- 
sion that  he  produced  new  words  to  that  fatal  saraband 
which  had  unfortunately  so  great  a  share  in  the  adven- 
ture. The  Chevalier  passed  for  the  author  ;  but  if  Saint 
Evremond  had  any  part  in  the  composition,  it  certainly 
was  greatly  inferior  to  his  other  performances,  as  the 
reader  will  see  in  the  following  chapter. 


LADY  ROBARTS. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Every  man  who  believes  that  his  honor  depends  upon 
that  of  his  wife  is  a  fool  who  torments  himself,  and  drives 
her  to  despair  ;  but  he  who,  being  naturally  jealous,  has 
the  additional  misfortune  of  loving  his  wife,  and  who 
expects  that  she  should  only  live  for  him,  is  a  perfect 
madman,  whom  the  torments  of  hell  have  actually  taken 
hold  of  in  this  world,  and  whom  nobody  pities.  All 
reasoning  and  observation  on  these  iinfortunate  circum- 
stances attending  wedlock  concur  in  this,  that  precaution 
is  vain  and  useless  before  the  evil,  and  revenge  odious 
afterwards. 

The  Spaniards,  who  tyrannize  over  their  wives,  more 
by  custom  than  from  jealousy,  content  themselves  with 
preserving  the  niceness  of  their  honor  by  duennas,  grates, 
and  locks.  The  Italians,  who  are  wary  in  their  sus- 
picions, and  vindictive  iu  their  resentments,  pursiie  a 
different  line  of  conduct  :  some  satisfy  themselves  with 
keeping  their  wives  under  locks  which  they  think  secure: 
others  by  ingenioiis  precaiitions  exceed  whatever  the 
Spaniards  can  invent  for  confining  the  fair  sex  ;  but  the 
generality  are  of  opinion,  that  in  either  unavoidable 
danger  or  in  manifest  transgression,  the  surest  way  is  to 
assassinate. 

But,  ye  courteous  and  indulgent  nations,  who,  far 
(212) 


MKMOIK.S  OF  COUNT  (iRAMMONT. 


213 


from  admittinf^  these  savage  and  barbarous  customs,  give 
full  liberty  to  your  dear  ribs,  and  commit  the  care  of 
their  virtue  to  their  own  discretion,  you  pass  without 
alarms  or  strife  your  peaceful  days,  in  all  the  enjoyments 
of  domestic  indolence  ! 

It  was  certainly'  some  evil  genius  that  induced  Lord 
Chesterfield  to  distinguish  himself  from  his  patient  and 
good-natured  countrymen,  and  ridiculously  to  afford  the 
world  an  opportunity  of  examining  into  the  particulars 
of  an  adventure  which  would  perhaps  never  have  been 
known  without  the  verge  of  the  court,  and  which  would 
everywhere  have  been  forgotten  in  less  than  a  month  ; 
but  now,  as  soon  as  ever  he  had  turned  his  back,  in 
order  to  march  away  with  his  prisoner,  and  the  orna- 
ments she  was  supposed  to  have  bestowed  upon  him, 
God  only  knows  what  a  terrible  attack  there  was  made 
upon  his  rear:  Rochester,*  Middlesex,!  Sedley,J  Ether- 
edge,  §  and  all  the  whole  band  of  wits,  exposed  him  in 


*Johii  Wilmot,  Earl  of  Rochester — "a  man,"  as  Lord  Orford  ob- 
serves, "  whom  the  Muses  were  fond  to  inspire,  and  ashamed  to  avow  ; 
and  who  practised,  without  the  least  reserve,  that  secret  which  can 
make  verses  more  read  for  their  defects  than  for  their  merits  :  "  Noble 
Authors,  vol.  ii.,  p.  43  ; — was  born,  according  to  Burnet  and  Wood,  in 
the  month  of  April,  1648;  but  Gadbury,  in  his  almanack  for  1695, 
fixes  the  date  on  April  i,  1647,  from  the  information  of  Lord  Roches- 
ter himself.  His  father  was  Henry,  Earl  of  Rochester,  better  known 
by  the  title  of  Lord  Wilmot.  He  was  educated  at  Wadhani  College, 
Oxford,  and,  in  1665,  went  to  sea  with  the  Earl  of  Sandwich,  and  dis- 
played a  degree  of  valor  which  he  never  showed  at  any  period  after- 
wards. Bishop  Burnet  says,  he  "was  naturally  modest,  till  the  court 
corrupted  him.  His  wit  had  in  it  a  peculiar  brightness,  to  which  none 
could  ever  arrive.  He  gave  himself  up  to  all  sorts  of  extravagance, 
and  to  the  wildest  frolics  that  a  wanton  wit  could  devise.  He  would 
have  gone  about  the  streets  as  a  beggar,  and  made  love  as  a  porter. 
He  set  up  a  stage  as  an  Italian  mountebank.  He  was  for  some  years 
always  drunk  ;  and  was  ever  doing  some  mischief  The  king  loved  his 
company,  for  the  diversion  it  afforded,  better  than  his  per.son  ;  and 
there  was  no  love  lost  lietween  them.  He  took  his  revenges  in  many 
libels.  He  found  out  a  footman  that  knew  all  the  court  ;  and  he  fur- 
nished him  with  a  red  coat  and  a  musquet,  as  a  sentinel,  and  kept  him 


214  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 

numberless  ballads,  and  diverted  the  public  at  his  ex- 
pense. 


all  the  winter  long,  every  night,  at  the  doors  of  snch  ladies  as  he  be- 
lieved might  be  in  intrigues.  In  the  court,  a  sentinel  is  little  minded, 
and  is  believed  to  be  posted  by  a  captain  of  the  guards  to  hinder  a 
combat  ;  so  this  man  saw  who  walked  about  and  visited  at  forbidden 
hours.  By  this  means  Lord  Rochester  made  many  discoveries  ;  and 
when  he  was  well  furnished  with  materials,  he  used  to  retire  into  the 
country,  for  a  month  or  two,  to  write  libels.  Once,  being  drinik,  he 
intended  to  give  the  king  a  libel  that  he  had  written  on  some  ladies  ; 
but,  by  a  mistake,  he  gave  him  one  written  on  himself.  He  fell  into 
an  ill  habit  of  body,  and,  in  set  fits  of  sickness,  he  had  deep  remorses; 
for  he  was  guilty  both  of  nmoli  impiety  and  of  great  immoralities. 
But  as  he  recovered,  he  threw  these  off,  and  turned  again  to  his  for- 
mer ill  courses.  In  the  last  year  of  his  life,  I  was  much  with  him,  and 
have  written  a  book  of  what  passed  between  him  and  me  :  I  do  verily 
believe,  he  was  then  so  changed,  that,  if  he  had  recovered,  he  would 
have  made  good  all  his  resolutions." — History  of  his  Own  Times,  vol. 
i.,  p.  372.  On  this  book,  mentioned  b}'  the  bishop.  Dr.  Johnson  pro- 
nounces the  following  eulogium  : — that  it  is  one  "which  the  critic 
ought  to  read  for  its  elegance,  the  philosopher  for  its  arguments,  and 
the  saint  for  its  piety.  It  were  an  injury  to  the  reader  to  offer  him  an 
abridgement." — Life  of  Rochester.    Lord  Rochester  died  July  26,  1680. 

t  At  this  time  the  Earl  of  Middlesex  was  Lionel,  who  died  in  1674. 
The  person  intended  by  our  author  was  Charles,  then  Lord  Buckhurst, 
afterwards  Earl  of  Middlesex,  and,  la.stly,  Duke  of  Dorset.  He  was 
born  January  24,  1637.  Bishop  Burnet  says,  he  "was  a  generous, 
'good-natured  man.  He  was  so  oppressed  with  phlegm,  that,  till  he 
was  a  Httle  heated  with  wine,  he  scarce  ever  spoke  ;  but  he  was,  upon 
tliat  exaltation,  a  very  lively  man.  Never  was  so  much  ill-nature  in  a 
pen  as  in  his,  joined  with  so  much  good-nature  as  was  in  himself,  even 
to  excess  ;  for  he  was  against  all  punishing,  even  of  malefactors.  He 
was  bountiful,  even  to  run  himself  into  difficulties,  and  charitable  to  a 
fault ;  for  he  commonly  gave  all  he  had  about  him  when  he  met  an 
object  that  moved  him.  But  he  was  so  lazy,  that,  though  the  king 
seemed  to  court  him  to  be  a  favorite,  he  would  not  give  himself  the 
trouble  that  belonged  to  that  post.  He  hated  the  court,  and  despised 
the  king,  when  he  saw  he  was  neither  generous  nor  tender-hearted." — 
History  of  his  Own  Times,  vol.  i.,  p.  370.  Lord  Orford  says  of  him, 
that  "he  was  the  finest  gentleman  of  the  voluptuous  court  of  Charles 
the  Second,  and  in  the  gloomy  one  of  King  William.  He  had  as  much 
wit  as  his  first  master,  or  his  contemporaries,  Buckingham  and  Roches- 
ter, without  the  royal  want  of  feeling,  the  duke's  want  of  principles, 
or  the  earl's  want  of  thought.    The  latter  said  with  astonishment,  'that 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT.  215 


The  Chevalier  de  Graminont  was  highly  pleased  with 
these  lively  and  huiuorous  compositions  ;  and  wherever 
this  snbject  was  mentioned,  never  failed  to  produce  his 
supplement  upon  the  occasion  :  "  It  is  strange,"  said  he, 
"  that  the  country,  which  is  little  better  than  a  gallows 
or  a  grave  for  young  people,  is  allotted  in  this  land  only 
for  the  unfortunate,  and  not  for  the  guilty  !  poor  Lady 
Chesterfield,  for  some  unguarded  looks, is  immediately 
seized  upon  by  an  angry  husband,  who  will  oblige  her 
to  spend  her  Christmas  at  a  country-hoiise,  a  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  from  London  ;  while  here  there  are  a 
thousand  ladies  who  are  left  at  liberty  to  do  whatever 
they  please,  and  who  indulge  in  that  liberty,  and  whose 
conduct,  in  short,  deserves  a  dail}'  bastinado.  I  name 
no  person,  God  forbid  I  should  ;  but  Lady  Middleton, 
Lady  Denham,  the  queen's  and  the  duchess's  maids  of 
honor,  and  a  hundred  others,  bestow  their  favors  to  the 
right  and  to  the  left,  and  not  the  least  notice  is  taken  of 


he  did  not  know  how  it  was,  but  Lord  Dorset  might  do  anything,  and 
3-et  was  never  to  blame.'  It  was  not  that  he  was  free  from  the  faihngs 
of  humanity,  but  he  had  the  tenderness  of  it  too,  which  made  every- 
body excuse  whom  everybody  loved  ;  for  even  the  asperitj-  of  his  verses 
seems  to  have  been  forgiven  to 

'The  best  good  man,  with  the  worst-natured  muse.'  " 
Noble  Authors,  vol.  ii.,  p.  96.    Lord  Dorset  died  January'  19,  1705-6. 

X  Sir  Charles  Sedley  was  born  about  the  year  1639,  and  was  educated 
at  Wadham  College,  Oxford.  He  ran  into  all  the  excesses  of  the  times 
in  which  he  lived.  Burnetsays,  "Sedley  had  a  more  sudden  and  copious 
wit,  which  furnished  a  perpetual  run  of  discourse  ;  but  he  was  not  so 
correct  as  Lord  Dorset,  nor  so  sparkling  as  Lord  Rochester." — History 
of  his  Oivn  Times,  vol.  i.,  p.  372.  He  afterwards  took  a  more  serious 
turn,  and  was  active  against  the  reigning  family  at  the  Revolution  ;  to 
which  he  was  probably  urged  by  the  dishonor  brought  upon  his 
daughter,  created  Countess  of  Dorchester  by  King  James  II.  Lord 
Rochester's  lines  on  his  powers  of  seduction  are  well  known.  He  died 
2olh  August,  1 701. 

\  Sir  George  Etheredge,  author  of  three  comedies,  was  born  about  the 
year  1636.  He  was,  in  James  the  Second's  reign,  employed  abroad  ;  first 
as  envoy  to  Hamburgh,  and  afterwards  as  minister  at  Ratisbon,  where 
he  died,  about  the  time  of  the  Revolution. 


216 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


their  conduct.  As  for  Lady  Shrewsbury,  she  is  con- 
spicuous. I  would  take  a  wager  she  might  have  a  man 
killed  for  her  every  day,  and  she  would  only  hold  her 
head  the  higher  for  it :  one  would  suppose  she  imported 
from  Rome  plenary  indulgences  for  her  conduct :  there 
are  three  or  four  gentlemen  who  wear  an  ounce  of  her 
hair  made  into  bracelets,  and  no  person  finds  any  fault ; 
and  yet  shall  such  a  cross-grained  fool  as  Chesterfield  be 
permitted  to  exercise  an  act  of  tyranny,  altogether  un- 
known in  this  country,  upon  the  prettiest  woman  in 
England,  and  all  for  a  mere  trifle :  but  I  am  his  humble 
servant  ;  his  precautions  will  avail  him  nothing ;  on  the 
contrary,  very  often  a  woman,  who  had  no  bad  inten- 
tions when  she  was  suffered  to  remain  in  tranquillity,  is 
prompted  to  such  conduct  by  revenge,  or  reduced  to  it 
by  necessity :  this  is  as  true  as  the  gospel :  hear  now 
what  Francisco's  saraband  says  on  the  subject : 

"Tell  me,  jealous-pated  swain, 

What  avail  thy  idle  arts. 

To  divide  united  hearts  ? 

Love,  like  the  wind,  I  trow, 

Will,  where  it  listeth,  blow  ; 
So,  prithee,  peace,  for  all  thy  cares  are  vain. 

"  When  you  are  by, 
Nor  wishful  look,  be  sure,  nor  eloquent  sigh, 

Shall  dare  those  inward  fires  discover. 

Which  burn  in  either  lover  : 
Yet  Argus'  self,  if  Argus  were  thy  spy, 

Should  ne'er,  with  all  his  mob  of  eyes, 
Surprise. 

"Some  joys  forbidden, 
Transports  hidden, 
Wliicli  love,  through  dark  and  secret  ways. 
Mysterious  love,  to  kindred  souls  conveys." 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont  passed  for  the  author  of 
this  sonnet  :  neither  the  justness  of  the  sentiment,  nor 
turn  of  it  are  surprisingly  beautiful ;  but  as  it  contained 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


217 


some  truths  that  flattered  the  genius  of  the  nation,  and 
pleased  those  who  interested  themselves  for  the  fair  sex, 
the  ladies  were  all  desirous  of  having  it  to  teach  their 
children. 

During  all  this  time  the  Duke  of  York,  not  being  in 
the  way  of  seeing  Lady  Chesterfield,  easily  forgot  her  : 
her  absence,  however,  had  some  circumstances  attending 
it  which  could  not  but  sensibly  affect  the  person  who  had 
occasioned  her  confinement;  but  there  are  certain  fortu- 
nate tempers  to  which  every  situation  is  easy;  they  feel 
neither  disappointment  with  bitterness,  nor  pleasure 
with  acuteness.  In  the  meantime,  as  the  duke  could  not 
remain  idle,  he  had  no  sooner  forgotten  Lady  Chester- 
field, but  he  began  to  think  of  her  whom  he  had  been  in 
love  with  before,  and  was  upon  the  point  of  relapsing 
into  his  old  passion  for  Miss  Hamilton. 

There  was  in  London  a  celebrated  portrait- painter 
called  Lely,*  who  had  greatly  improved  himself  by 
studying  the  famous  Vandyke's  pictures,  which  were 


*  Sir  Peter  Lely  was  bom  at  Soest,  in  Westphalia,  1617,  and  came  to 
England  in  1641.  Lord  Orford  observ^es,  "  If  Vandyke's  portraits  are 
often  tame  and  spiritless,  at  least  they  are  natural  :  his  labored  draperies 
flow  with  ease,  and  not  a  fold  but  is  placed  with  propriety.  Lely  sup- 
plied the  want  of  taste  with  clinquant :  his  nymphs  trail  fringes  and 
embroiderj'  through  meadows  and  purling  streams.  Add.-that  Vandyke's 
habits  are  those  of  the  times  ;  Lely's  a  sort  of  fantastic  night-gowns, 
fastened  with  a  single  pin.  The  latter  was,  in  truth,  the  ladies'  painter  ; 
and  whether  the  age  was  improved  in  beauty  or  in  flattery,  Lely's 
women  are  certainly  much  handsomer  than  those  of  Vandyke.  They 
please  as  much  more  as  they  evidently  meant  to  please.  He  caught 
the  reigning  character,  and 

'  on  the  animated  canvas  stole 

The  sleepy  eye,  that  spoke  the  melting  soul.' 

I  do  not  know  whether,  even  in  softness  of  the  flesh,  he  did  not  excel 
his  predecessor.  The  beauties  at  Windsor  are  the  court  of  Paphos,  and 
ought  to  be  engraved  for  the  memoirs  of  its  charming  biographer, 
Count  Hamilton." — ylnccdotes  of  Pai)itinff,  vol.  iii.,  p.  27.  .Sir  Peter 
Lely  died  1680,  and  was  buried  in  St.  Paul's,  Covent  Garden. 


218 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


dispersed  all  over  England  in  abundance.  Lely  imitated 
Vandyke's  manner,  and  approached  the  nearest  to  him  of 
all  the  moderns.  The  Duchess  of  York,  being  desirous 
of  having  the  portraits  of  the  handsomest  persons  at  court, 
Lely  painted  them,  and  employed  all  his  skill  in  the 
performance;  nor  could  he  ever  exert  himself  upon  more 
beautiful  subjects.  Ever}'  picture  appeared  a  master- 
piece ;  and  that  of  Miss  Hamilton  appeared  the  highest 
finished:  Lely  himself  acknowledged  that  he  had  drawn 
it  with  a  particular  pleasure.  The  Duke  of  York  took 
a  delight  in  looking  at  it,  and  began  again  to  ogle  the 
original  :  he  had  very  little  reason  to  hope  for  success  ; 
and  at  the  same  time  that  his  hopeless  passion  alarmed 
Chevalier  de  Grammont,  Lad)-  Denhani  thought  proper 
to  renew  the  negotiation  which  had  so  unluckily  been 
interrupted:  it  was  soon  brought  to  a  conclusion;  for 
where  both  parties  are  sincere  in  a  negotiation,  no  time 
is  lost  in  cavilling.  Everything  succeeded  prosperoush' 
on  one  side ;  yet  I  know  not  what  fatality  obstructed  the 
pretensions  of  the  other.  The  duke  was  very  urgent 
with  the  duchess  to  put  Lady  Dcnham  in  possession  of 
the  place  which  was  the  object  of  her  ambition  ;  bi:t,  as 
she  was  not  guarantee  for  the  performance  of  the  secret 
articles  of  the  treaty,  though  till  this  time  she  had 
borne  with  patience  the  inconstancy  of  the  duke,  and 
yielded  submissively  to  his  desires,  yet,  in  the  present 
instance,  it  appeared  hard  and  dishonorable  to  her,  to 
entertain  near  her  person,  a  rival,  who  would  expose  her 
to  the  danger  of  acting  but  a  second  part  in  the  midst  of 
her  own  court.  However,  she  saw  herself  upon  the 
point  of  being  forced  to  it  by  authority,  when  a  far  more 
unfortunate  obstacle  forever  bereft  poor  Lady  Denham  of 
the  hopes  of  possessing  that  fatal  place,  which  she  had 
solicited  with  such  eagerness. 

Old  Denham,  naturally  jealous,  became  more  and 
more  suspicious,  and  found  that  he  had  sufficient  ground 
for  such  condiict:  his  wife  was  young  and  handsome,  he 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


219 


old  and  disagreeable  :  what  reason  then  had  he  to  flatter 
himself  that  Heaven  wonld  exempt  him  from  the  fate  of 
husbands  in  the  like  circumstances?  ,This  lie  was  con- 
tinually saying  to  himself ;  but  when  compliments  were 
poured  in  upon  him  from  all  sides,  upon  the  place  his 
lady  was  going  to  have  near  the  duchess's  person,  he 
formed  ideas  of  what  was  sufficient  to  have  made  him 
hang  himself,  if  he  had  possessed  the  resolution.  The 
traitor  chose  rather  to  exercise  his  courage  against 
another.  He  wanted  precedents  for  putting  in  practice 
his  resentments  in  a  privileged  country  :  that  of  Lord 
Chesterfield  was  not  sufficiently  bitter  for  the  revenge  he 
meditated:  besides,  he  had  no  country-house  to  which  he 
could  carry  his  unfortunate  wife.  This  being  the  case, 
the  old  villain  made  her  travel  a  much  longer  journey 
without  stirring  out  of  London.  Merciless  fate  robbed 
her  of  life,*  and  of  her  dearest  hopes,  in  the  bloom  of 
youth. 

As  no  person  entertained  any  doubt  of  his  having  poi- 
soned her,  the  populace  of  his  neighborhood  had  a  de- 
sign of  tearing  him  in  pieces,  as  .soon  as  he  should  come 
abroad;  but  he  shut  himself  up  to  bewail  her  deatji, 
until  their  fury  was  appeased  by  a  magnificent  fmieral, 
at  which  he  distributed  four  times  more  burnt  wine  than 
had  ever  been  drunk  at  any  burial  in  England. 

While  the  town  was  in  fear  of  some  great  disaster,  as 
an  expiation  for  these  fatal  effects  of  jealousy,  Hamilton 
was  not  altogether  so  easy  as  he  flattered  himself  he 
should  be  after  the  departure  of  Lady  Chesterfield:  he  had 
only  consulted  the  dictates  of  revenge  in  what  he  had 
done.  His  vengeance  was  satisfied  ;  but  such  was  far 
from  being  the  case  with  his  love;  and  having,  since  the 
absence  of  her  he  still  admired,  notwithstanding  his  re- 

*  The  lami)oons  of  the  day,  some  of  which  are  to  be  found  in  Andrew 
Marvell's  Works,  more  than  insinuate  that  she  was  deprived  of  life  by 
a  mixture  infused  into  some  chocolate.  The  slander  of  the  times  im- 
puted her  death  to  the  jealousy  of  the  Duchess  of  York. 


220 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


seiitmetits,  leisure  to  make  those  reflections  which  a 
recent  injury  will  not  permit  a  man  to  attend  to:  "And 
wherefore,"  said  he  to  himself,  "was  I  so  eager  to  make 
her  miserable,  who  alone,  however  culpable  she  may  be, 
has  it  in  her  power  to  make  me  happy  ?  Cursed  jeal- 
ousy ! ' '  continued  he,  ' '  yet  more  cruel  to  those  who  tor- 
ment than  to  those  who  are  tormented  !  What  have  1 
gained  by  having  blasted  the  hopes  of  a  more  happy 
rival,  since  I  was  not  able  to  perform  this  without  depriv- 
ing myself,  at  the  same  time,  of  her  upon  whom  the 
whole  happiness  and  comfort  of  my  life  was  centred." 

Thus,  clearly  proving  to  himself,  by  a  great  many 
reasonings  of  the  same  kind,  and  all  out  of  season,  that 
in  such  an  engagement  it  was  much  better  to  partake 
with  another  than  to  have  nothing  at  all,  he  filled  his 
mind  with  a  number  of  vain  regrets  and  unprofitable  re- 
morse, when  he  received  a  letter  from  her  who  occa- 
sioned them,  but  a  letter  so  exactly  adapted  to  increase 
them,  that,  after  he  had  read  it,  he  looked  upon  himself 
as  the  greatest  scoundrel  in  the  world.    Here  it  follows  : 

"You  will,  no  doubt,  be  as  much  surprised  at  this 
letter  as  I  was  at  the  unconcerned  air  with  which  you 
beheld  my  departure.  I  am  led  to  believe  that  you  had 
imagined  reasons  which,  in  your  own  mind,  justified 
such  unseasonable  conduct.  If  you  are  still  imder  the 
impression  of  such  barbarous  sentiments  it  will  afford  you 
pleasure  to  be  made  acquainted  with  what  I  suffer  in  the 
most  horrible  of  prisons.  Whatever  the  country  affords 
most  melancholy  in  this  season  presents  itself  to  my  view 
on  all  sides  :  surrounded  by  impassable  roads,  out  of  one 
window  I  see  nothing  but  rocks,  out  of  another  nothing 
but  precipices  ;  but  wherever  I  turn  my  eyes  within 
doors  I  meet  those  of  a  jealous  husband,  still  more  in- 
supportable than  the  sad  objects  that  encompass  me.  I 
should  add  to  the  misfortunes  of  my  life  that  of  seeming 
criminal  in  the  eyes  of  a  man  who  ought  to  have  justified 
me,  even  against  convincing  appearances,  if  by  my 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAM.MONT. 


221 


avowed  innocence  I  had  a  right  to  coniphiin  or  to  expos- 
tuhite  :  bnt  how  is  it  possible  for  nie  to  justify  myself  at 
such  a  distance  ?  and  how  can  I  flatter  myself  that  the 
description  of  a  most  dreadful  prison  will  not  prevent 
you  from  believino;  me?  But  do  you  deserve  that  1 
should  wish  you  did  ?  Heavens  !  how  I  must  hate  you, 
if  I  did  not  love  you  to  distraction.  Come,  therefore, 
and  let  me  once  again  see  you,  that  you  may  hear  my 
justification  ;  and  I  am  convinced  that  if  after  this  visit 
you  find  me  guilty  it  will  not  be  w'ith  respect  to  )-our- 
self.  Our  Argus  sets  out  to-morrow  for  Chester,  where 
a  law-suit  will  detain  him  a  week.  I  know  not  whether 
he  will  gain  it  ;  but  I  am  sure  it  will  be  entirely  your 
fault  if  he  does  not  lose  one,  for  which  he  is  at  least  as 
anxious  as  that  he  is  now  going  after." 

This  letter  was  sufficient  to  make  a  man  run  blindfold 
into  an  adventure  still  more  rash  than  that  which  was 
proposed  to  him,  and  that  was  rash  enough  in  all  re- 
spects :  he  could  not  perceive  by  what  means  she  could 
justify  herself  ;  but  as  she  assured  him  he  should  be  satis- 
fied with  his  journey,  this  was  all  he  desired  at  present. 

There  was  one  of  his  relations  with  Lady  Chesterfield, 
who,  having  accompanied  her  in  her  exile,  had  gained 
some  share  in  their  mutual  confidence  ;  and  it  was 
through  her  means  he  received  this  letter,  with  all  the 
necessary  instructions  about  his  journey  and  his  arrival. 
Secrecy  being  the  soul  of  such  expeditions,  especially 
before  an  amour  is  accomplished,  he  took  post,  and  set 
out  in  the  night,  animated  by  the  most  tender  and  flat- 
tering wishes,  so  that,  in  less  than  no  time  almost,  in 
comparison  with  the  distance  and  the  badness  of  the 
roads,  he  had  travelled  a  hundred  and  fifty  tedious 
miles  :  at  the  last  .stage  he  prudently  dismissed  the  post- 
boy. It  was  not  yet  daylight,  and  therefore,  for  fear  of 
the  rocks  and  precipices  mentioned  in  her  letter,  he 
proceeded  with  tolerable  discretion,  considering  he  was 
in  love. 


222 


MEMOIR.S  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


By  this  means  he  fortunately  escaped  all  the  danger- 
ous places,  and,  according  to  his  instructions,  alighted 
at  a  little  hut  adjoining  to  the  park  wall.  The  place 
was  not  magnificent  ;  but,  as  he  only  wanted  rest,  it  did 
well  enough  for  that  :  he  did  not  wish  for  daylight,  and 
was  even  still  less  desirous  of  being  seen  ;  wherefore, 
having  shiit  himself  up  in  this  obscure  retreat,  he  fell 
into  a  profound  sleep,  and  did  not  wake  until  noon. 
As  he  was  particularly  hungry  when  he  awoke,  he  ate 
and  drank  heartily  :  and,  as  he  was  the  neatest  man  at 
court,  and  was  expected  by  the  neatest  lady  in  England, 
he  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day  in  dressing  himself, 
and  in  making  all  those  preparations  which  the  time  and 
place  permitted,  without  deigning  once  to  look  around 
him,  or  to  ask  his  landlord  a  single  question.  At  last 
the  orders  he  expected  with  great  impatience  were 
brought  him,  in  the  beginning  of  the  evening,  by  a  ser- 
vant, who,  attending  him  as  a  guide,  after  having  led 
him  for  about  half  an  hour  in  the  dirt,  through  a  park 
of  vast  extent,  brought  him  at  last  into  a  garden,  into 
which  a  little  door  opened  :  he  was  posted  exactly  oppo- 
site to  this  door,  by  which,  in  a  short  time,  he  was  to  be 
introduced  to  a  more  agreeable  situation  ;  and  here  his 
conductor  left  him.  The  night  advanced,  but  the  door 
never  opened. 

Though  the  winter  was  almost  over,  the  cold  weather 
seemed  only  to  be  beginning  :  he  was  dirtied  up  to  his 
knees  in  mud,  and  soon  perceived  that  if  he  continued 
much  longer  in  this  garden  it  woiild  all  be  frozen.  This 
beginning  of  a  very  dark  and  bitter  night  would  have 
been  unbearable  to  any  other  ;  but  it  was  nothing  to  a 
man  who  flattered  himself  to  pass  the  remainder  of  it  in 
the  height  of  bliss.  However,  he  began  to  wonder  at  so 
many  precautions  in  the  absence  of  a  husband  :  his  im- 
agination, by  a  thousand  delicious  and  tender  ideas,  sup- 
ported him  some  time  against  the  torments  of  impatience 
and  the  inclemency  of  the  weather  ;  but  he  felt  his 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


223 


imaj^ination,  notwithstanding,  cooling-  by  degrees  ;  and 
two  honrs,  which  seemed  to  him  as  tedious  as  two  whole 
ages,  having  passed,  and  not  the  least  notice  being  taken 
of  him,  either  from  the  door  or  from  the  window,  he 
began  to  reason  with  himself  upon  the  posture  of  his 
affairs,  and  what  was  the  fittest  conduct  for  him  to  pur- 
sue in  this  emergency:  "What  if  I  should  rap  at  this 
cursed  door?"  said  he ;  "for  if  my  fate  requires  that  I 
should  perish,  it  is  at  least  more  honorable  to  die  in  the 
house  than  to  be  starved  to  death  in  the  garden  :  but 
then,"  continued  he,  "I  may,  thereby,  perhaps,  expose 
a  person  whom  some  unforeseen  accident  may,  at  this 
ver\'  instant,  have  reduced  to  greater  perplexity  than 
even  I  myself  am  in."  This  thought  supplied  him  with 
a  necessary  degree  of  patience  and  fortitude  against  the 
enemies  he  had  to  contend  with  ;  he  therefore  began  to 
walk  quickly  to  and  fro,  with  resolution  to  wait,  as  long 
as  he  could  keep  alive,  the  end  of  an  adventure  which 
had  such  an  iincomfortable  beginning.  All  this  was  to 
no  piirpose  ;  for  though  he  used  every  effort  to  keep  him- 
self warm,  and  though  muffled  up  in  a  thick  cloak,  yet 
he  began  to  be  benumbed  in  all  his  limbs,  and  the  cold 
gained  the  ascendancy  over  all  his  amorous  vivacity  and 
eagerness.  Daj  break  was  not  far  off,  and  jiidging  now 
that,  though  the  accursed  door  should  even  be  opened, 
it  would  be  to  no  purpose,  he  returned,  as  well  as  he 
coiild,  to  the  place  from  whence  he  had  set  out  upon 
this  wonderful  expedition. 

All  the  fagots  that  were  in  the  cottage  were  hardly 
able  to  unfreeze  him  :  the  more  he  reflected  on  his  ad- 
venture, the  circumstances  attending  it  appeared  still  the 
more  strange  and  unaccountable  ;  but  so  far  from  accus- 
ing the  charming  countess,  he  suffered  a  thousand  differ- 
ent anxieties  on  her  account.  Sometimes  he  imagined 
that  her  husband  might  have  returned  unexpectedly  ; 
sometimes,  that  she  might  suddenly  have  been  taken  ill  ; 
in  short,  that  some  insuperable  obstacle  had  unluckily 


224  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


interposed,  and  prevented  his  happiness,  notwithstanding 
his  mistress's  kind  intentions  towards  him.  "  Bnt 
wherefore, ' '  said  he,  ' '  did  she  forget  me  in  that  cursed 
garden?  Is  it  possible  that  she  could  not  find  a  single 
moment  to  make  me  at  least  some  sign  or  other,  if  she 
could  neither  speak  to  me  nor  give  me  admittance?" 
He  knew  not  which  of  these  conjectures  to  rely  upon,  or 
how  to  answer  his  own  questions ;  but  as  he  flattered 
himself  that  everything  would  succeed  better  the  next 
night,  after  having  vowed  not  to  set  a  foot  again  into 
that  unfortunate  garden,  he  gave  orders  to  be  awakened 
as  soon  as  any  person  should  inquire  for  him  :  then  he 
laid  himself  down  in  one  of  the  worst  beds  in  the  world, 
and  slept  as  sound  as  if  he  had  been  in  the  best :  he  sup- 
posed that  he  should  not  be  awakened,  but  either  by  a 
letter  or  a  message  from  I,ady  Chesterfield  ;  but  he  had 
scarce  slept  two  hours,  when  he  was  roused  by  the  sound 
of  the  horn  and  the  cry  of  the  hounds.  The  hut  which 
afforded  him  a  retreat,  joining,  as  we  before  said,  to  the 
park  wall,  he  called  his  host,  to  know  what  was  the 
occasion  of  that  hunting,  which  luade  a  noise  as  if  the 
whole  pack  of  hounds  had  been  in  his  bedchamber.  He 
was  told  that  it  was  my  lord  hunting  a  hare  in  his  park. 
"What  lord?"  said  he,  in  great  surprise.  "The  Earl 
of  Chesterfield,"  replied  the  peasant.  He  was  so  aston- 
ished at  this  that  at  first  he  hid  his  head  under  the  bed- 
clothes, under  the  idea  that  he  already  saw  him  entering 
with  all  his  hounds ;  but  as  soon  as  he  had  a  little  re- 
covered himself  he  began  to  curse  capricious  fortune,  no 
longer  doubting  but  this  jealous  fool's  return  had  occa- 
sioned all  his  tribulations  in  the  preceding  night. 

It  was  not  possible  for  him  to  sleep  again,  after  such 
an  alarm  ;  he  therefore  got  up,  that  he  might  revolve  in 
his  mind  all  the  stratagems  that  are  usuall}^  employed 
either  to  deceive,  or  to  remove  out  of  the  way,  a  jealous 
scoundrel  of  a  husband,  who  thought  fit  to  neglect  his 
law-suit  in  order  to  plague  his  wife.    He  had  just  finished 


A  CO 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


225 


dressing  himself,  and  was  beginning  to  question  his  Land- 
lord, when  the  same  servant  who  had  conducted  him  to 
the  garden  delivered  him  a  letter  and  disappeared,  with- 
out waiting  for  an  answer.  This  letter  was  from  his 
relation,  and  was  to  this  effect  : 

"I  am  extremely  sorry  that  I  have  innocently  been 
accessary  to  bringing  you  to  a  place  to  which  you  were 
only  invited  to  be  latiglied  at  :  I  opposed  this  journey  at 
first,  though  I  was  then  persuaded  it  was  wholly  sug- 
gested b}-  her  tenderness  ;  but  she  has  now  undeceived 
me  :  she  triumphs  in  the  trick  she  has  played  you  :  her 
husband  has  not  stirred  from  hence,  but  staj  s  at  home, 
out  of  complaisance  to  her  :  he  treats  her  in  the  most 
affectionate  manner;  and  it  was  iipon  their  reconciliation 
that  she  found  out  that  you  had  advised  him  to  carry 
her  into  the  country.  She  has  conceived  such  hatred 
and  aversion  against  you  for  it,  that  I  find,  from  her 
discourse,  she  has  not  yet  wholly  satisfied  her  resent- 
ment. Console  yourself  for  the  hatred  of  a  person  whose 
heart  never  merited  your  tenderness.  Return  :  a  longer 
sta)'  in  this  place  will  but  draw  upon  you  some  fresh 
misfortune  :  for  my  part,  I  shall  soon  leave  her  :  I  know 
her,  and  I  thank  God  for  it.  I  do  not  repent  having 
pitied  her  at  first ;  but  I  am  disgusted  with  an  emploj-- 
ment  which  but  ill  agrees  with  my  way  of  thinking." 

Upon  reading  this  letter,  astonishment,  shame,  hatred 
and  rage  seized  at  once  upon  his  heart  :  then  menaces, 
invectives,  and  the  desire  of  vengeance,  broke  forth  by 
turns,  and  excited  his  passion  and  resentment;  but,  after 
he  deliberately  considered  the  matter,  he  resolved  that 
it  was  now  the  best  way  quietly  to  mount  his  horse  and 
to  carry  back  with  him  to  London  a  severe  cold,  instead 
of  the  soft  wishes  and  tender  desires  he  had  brought  from 
thence.  He  quitted  this  perfidious  place  with  much 
greater  expedition  than  he  had  arrived  at  it,  though  his 
mind  was  far  from  being  occupied  with  such  tender  and 
agreeable  ideas  :  however,  when  he  thought  himself  at 
15 


226 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


a  sufficient  distance  to  be  out  of  danger  of  meeting  Lord 
Chesterfield  and  his  hounds,  he  chose  to  look  back,  that 
he  might  at  least  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the 
prison  where  this  wicked  enchantress  was  confined  ;  but 
what  was  his  surprise,  when  he  saw  a  very  fine  house, 
situated  on  the  banks  of  a  river,  in  the  most  delightful 
and  pleasant  country  imaginable.*  Neither  rock  nor 
precipice  was  here  to  be  seen  ;  for,  in  reality,  they  were 
only  in  the  letter  of  his  perfidious  mistress.  This  fur- 
nished fresh  cause  for  resentment  and  confusion  to  a 
man  who  thought  himself  so  well  acquainted  with  all 
the  wiles,  as  well  as  weaknesses,  of  the  fair  sex  ;  and 
who  now  foiuid  himself  the  dupe  of  a  coquette,  who 
was  reconciled  to  her  husband  in  order  to  be  revenged 
on  her  lover. 

At  last  he  reached  London,  well  furnished  with  argu- 
ments to  maintain  that  a  man  must  be  extremely  weak 
to  trust  to  the  tenderness  of  a  woman  who  has  once  de- 
ceived him,  but  that  he  must  be  a  complete  fool  to  run 
after  her. 

This  adventure  not  being  much  to  his  credit,  he  sup- 
pressed, as  much  as  possible,  both  the  journey  and  the 


*  This  was  Bretby,  in  the  county  of  Derby.  A  late  traveller  has  the 
following  reflections  on  this  place  :  "  Moving  back  again  a  few  miles  to 
the  west,  we  trace,  with  sad  reflection,  the  melancholy  ruins  and  de- 
structions of  what  was  once  the  boasted  beauty  of  the  lovely  country, 
\nz.,  Bretby,  the  ancient  seat  of  the  Earls  of  Chesterfield.  Nothing 
scarce  is  left  of  that  former  grandeur,  those  shades,  those  sylvan  scenes 
that  everywhere  graced  the  most  charming  of  all  parks  :  the  baneful 
hand  of  luxury  hath,  with  rude  violence,  laid  them  waste.  About  ten 
years  ago,  the  venerable  and  lofty  pile  was  standing,  and  exhibited  de- 
lightful magnificence  to  its  frequent  visitors  :  its  painted  roofs  and 
walls,  besides  a  large  collection  of  pictures,  afforded  much  entertain- 
ment to  the  fond  admirer  of  antique  beauties  ;  and  the  whole  stood  as 
a  lasting  monument  of  fame  and  credit  to  its  lordly  owner.  Would 
they  were  standing  now  !  but  that  thought  is  vain  :  not  only  each  sur- 
rounding monument,  but  the  very  stones  themselves,  have  been  con- 
verted to  the  purpose  of  filthy  lucre." — Tour  in  ijSj  from  London  to 
the  Western  Islands  of  Scotland,  i2mo.,  p.  29. 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


227 


circumstances  attending-  it  ;  but,  as  we  may  easil}'  sup- 
pose, Lady  Chesterfield  made  no  secret  of  it,  the  king 
came  to  the  knowledge  of  it ;  and,  having  complimented 
Hamilton  upon  it,  desired  to  be  informed  of  all  the  par- 
ticulars of  the  expedition.  The  Chevalier  de  Grammont 
happened  to  be  present  at  this  recital;  and,  having  gently 
inveighed  against  the  treacherous  manner  in  which  he 
had  been  used,  said:  "If  she  is  to  be  blamed  for  carrying 
the  jest  so  far,  you  are  no  less  to  be  blamed  for  coming 
back  so  suddenly,  like  an  ignorant  novice.  I  dare  lay 
an  hundred  guineas,  she  has  more  than  once  repented  of 
a  resentment  which  you  pretty  well  deserved  for  the 
trick  you  had  played  her  :  women  love  revenge  ;  but 
their  resentments  seldom  last  long  ;  and  if  you  had  re- 
mained in  the  neighborhood  till  the  next  day,  I  will  be 
hanged  if  she  would  not  have  given  you  satisfaction  for 
the  first  night's  sufferings."  Hamilton  being  of  a  dif- 
ferent opinion,  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  resolved  to 
maintain  his  assertion  by  a  case  in  point ;  and,  address- 
ing himself  to  the  king:  "Sir,"  said  he,  "your  majesty, 
I  suppose,  must  have  known  Marion  de  TOrme,  the 
most  charming  creature  in  all  France  :  though  she  was 
as  witty  as  an  angel,  she  was  as  capricious  as  a  devil. 
This  beauty  having  made  me  an  appointment,  a  whim 
seized  her  to  put  me  off,  and  to  give  it  to  another  ;  she 
therefore  wrote  me  one  of  the  tenderest  billets  in  the 
world,  fiill  of  the  grief  and  sorrow  she  was  in,  b}-  being 
obliged  to  disappoint  me,  on  account  of  a  most  terrible 
headache,  that  obliged  her  to  keep  her  bed,  and  de- 
prived her  of  the  pleasure  of  seeing  me  till  the  next  day. 
This  headache  coming  all  of  a  sudden,  appeared  to  me 
very  suspicious  ;  and,  never  doubting  but  it  was  her 
intention  to  jilt  me:  'Very  well,  mistress  coquette,' 
.said  I  to  myself,  '  if  you  do  not  enjoy  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  me  this  da)-,  you  shall  not  enjoy  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  another. ' 

"Hereupon,  I  detached  all  my  servants,  some  of  whom 


228 


MEMOIRS 


OF  COUNT 


GRAM  MONT. 


patrolled  about  her  house,  whilst  others  watched  her 
door  ;  one  of  the  latter  brought  me  intelligence  that  no 
person  had  gone  into  her  house  all  the  afternoon  ;  but 
that  a  foot-boy  had  gone  out  as  it  grew  dark  ;  that  he 
followed  him  as  far  as  the  Riie  Saint  Antoine,  where  this 
boy  met  another,  to  whom  he  only  spoke  two  or  three 
words.  This  was  sufficient  to  confirm  my  suspicions, 
and  make  me  resolve  either  to  make  one  of  the  part}', 
or  to  disconcert  it. 

"As  the  bagnio  where  I  lodged  was  at  a  great  distance 
from  the  IMarais,  as  soon  as  the  night  set  in  I  mounted 
my  horse,  without  any  attendant.  When  I  came  to  the 
Place-Royale,  the  servant,  who  was  sentry  there,  assured 
me  that  no  person  was  yet  gone  into  Mademoiselle  de 
I'Orme's  *  house  :  I  rode  forward  towards  the  Rue  Saint 
Antoine ;  and,  just  as  I  was  going  out  of  the  Place- 
Royale,  I  saw  a  man  on  foot  coming  in-to  it,  who  avoided 
me  as  much  as  he  possibly  could  ;  but  his  endeavor  was 
all  to  no  purpose  ;  I  knew  him  to  be  the  Duke  de  Bris- 
sac,  and  I  no  longer  doubted  but  he  was  my  rival  that 
night :  I  then  approached  towards  him,  seeming  as  if  I 
feared  I  mistook  my  man  ;  and,  alighting  with  a  very 
busy  air :  '  Brissac,  my  friend,'  said  I,  'you  must  do  me 
a  service  of  the  ver}'  greatest  importance  :  I  have  an  ap- 
pointment, for  the  first  time,  with  a  girl  who  lives  very 
near  this  place  ;  and,  as  this  visit  is  only  to  concert 
measures,  I  shall  make  but  a  very  short  stay  ;  be  so  kind, 
therefore,  as  to  lend  me  your  cloak,  and- walk  my  horse 
about  a  little,  until  I  return  ;  but,  above  all,  do  not  go 
far  from  this  place  :  you  see  that  I  use  you  freely  like  a 
friend  ;  but  you  know  it  is  upon  condition  that  you  may 
take  the  same  liberty  with  me.'    I  took  his  cloak,  with- 


*  Marion  de  I'Omie,  born  at  Chalons,  in  Champagne,  was  esteemed 
the  most  beautiful  woman  of  her  times.  It  is  believed  that  she  was 
secretly  married  to  the  unfortunate  Monsieur  Cinqmars.  After  his 
death,  she  became  the  mistress  of  Cardinal  Richelieu,  and,  at  last,  of 
Monsieur  d'Emery,  superintendent  of  the  finances. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


229 


out  waiting  for  his  answer,  and  he  took  my  horse  by  the 
bridle,  and  followed  me  with  his  eye ;  but  he  gained  no 
intelligence  by  this ;  for,  after  having  pretended  to  go 
into  a  house  opposite  to  him,  I  slipped  under  the  piazzas 
to  Mademoiselle  de  I'Orme's,  where  the  door  was  opened 
as  soon  as  I  knocked.  I  was  so  much  miifRed  up  in 
Brissac's  cloak  that  I  was  taken  for  him  :  the  door  was 
immediately  shut,  not  the  least  question  asked  me  ;  and 
having  none  to  ask  myself  I  went  straight  to  the  lady's 
chamber.  I  found  her  upon  a  couch  in  the  most  agree- 
able and  genteelest  deshabille  imaginable  :  she  never  in 
her  life  looked  so  handsome,  nor  was  so  greatly  siirprised; 
and,  seeing  her  speechless  and  confounded  :  '  What  is 
the  matter,  my  fair  one  ? '  said  I,  '  methinks  this  is  a 
headache  very  elegantly  set  off ;  but  your  headache,  to 
all  appearance,  is  now  gone?'  'Not  in  the  least,'  said 
she,  '  I  can  scarce  support  it,  and  you  will  oblige  me  in 
going  away  that  I  may  go  to  bed.'  'As  for  your  going 
to  bed,  to  that  I  have  not  the  least  objection,'  said  I,  'but 
as  for  my  going  away,  that  cannot  be,  my  little  princess  : 
the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  is  no  fool ;  a  woman  does  not 
dress  herself  with  so  much  care  for  nothing.'  '  You  will 
find,  however,'  said  she,  'that  it  is  for  nothing  ;  for  you 
may  depend  upon  it  that  you  shall  be  no  gainer  by  it.' 
'  What ! '  said  I,  '  after  having  made  me  an  appointment ! ' 
'  Well,'  replied  she  hastily,  '  though  I  had  made  you  fifty, 
it  still  depends  upon  me,  whether  I  chose  to  keep  them 
or  not,  and  you  must  submit  if  I  do  not.'  'This  might 
do  very  well,'  said  I,  '  if  it  was  not  to  give  it  to  another.' 
Mademoiselle  de  I'Orme,  as  haughty  as  a  woman  of  the 
greatest  virtue,  and  as  passionate  as  one  who  has  the  least, 
was  irritated  at  a  suspicion  which  gave  her  more  concern 
than  confusion  ;  and  seeing  that  she  was  beginning  to 
put  herself  in  a  passion  :  '  IMadam,'  said  I,  '  pray  do  not 
talk  in  so  high  a  strain;  I  know  what  perplexes  you:  you 
are  afraid  lest  Brissac  should  meet  me  here;  but  you  may 
make  yourself  easy  on  that  account :  I  met  him  not  far 


230 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


from  this  place,  and  God  knows  that  I  have  so  managed 
the  affair  as  to  prevent  his  visiting  yon  soon. '  Having 
spoken  these  words  in  a  tone  somewhat  tragical,  she  ap- 
peared concerned  at  first,  and,  looking  upon  nie  with 
surprise  :  '  What  do  you  mean  about  the  Duke  de  Bris- 
sac?'  said  she.  'I  mean,'  replied  I,  '  that  he  is  at  the 
end  of  the  street,  walking  my  horse  about ;  but,  if  you 
will  not  believe  me,  send  one  of  your  own  servants 
thither,  or  look  at  his  cloak  which  I  left  in  your  ante- 
chamber.' Upon  this  she  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter,  in 
the  midst  of  her  astonishment,  and,  throwing  her  arms 
around  my  neck,  "  My  dear  Chevalier,'  said  she,  '  I  can 
hold  out  no  longer  ;  you  are  too  amiable  and  too  eccen- 
tric not  to  be  pardoned.'  I  then  told  her  the  whole 
story:  she  was  ready  to  die  with  laughing;  and,  parting 
very  good  friends,  she  assured  me  my  rival  might  exercise 
horses  as  long  as  he  pleased,  but  that  he  should  not  set 
his  foot  within  her  doors  that  night. 

"  I  found  the  duke  exactly  in  the  place  where  I  had 
left  him  :  I  asked  him  a  thousand  pardons  for  having 
made  him  wait  so  long,  and  thanked  him  a  thousand 
times  for  his  complaisance.  He  told  me  I  jested,  that 
such  compliments  were  unusual  among  friends  ;  and  to 
convince  me  that  he  had  cordially  rendered  me  this  piece 
of  service,  he  would,  by  all  means,  hold  my  horse  while 
I  was  mounting.  I  returned  him  his  cloak,  bade  him 
good-night,  and  went  back  to  my  lodgings,  equally  satis- 
fied with  my  mistress  and  my  rival.  This,"  continued 
he,  "proves  that  a  little  patience  and  address  are  suffi- 
cient to  disarm  the  anger  of  the  fair,  to  turn  even  their 
tricks  to  a  man's  advantage." 

It  was  not  in  vain  that  the  Chevalier  de  Granimont  di- 
verted the  court  with  his  stories,  instructed  by  his  exam- 
ple, and  never  appeared  there  but  to  inspire  universal 
joy  ;  for  a  long  time  he  was  the  only  foreigner  in  fashion. 
Fortune,  jealous  of  the  justice  which  is  done  to  merit, 
and  desirous  of  seeing  all  human  happiness  depend  on  her 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


231 


caprice,  raised  up  against  him  two  competitors  for  the 
pleasure  he  had  long  enjoyed  of  entertaining  the  English 
court  ;  and  these  competitors  were  so  much  the  more 
dangerous,  as  the  reputation  of  their  several  merits  had 
preceded  their  arrival,  in  order  to  dispose  the  suffrages 
of  the  court  in  their  favor. 

They  came  to  display,  in  their  own  persons,  whatever 
was  the  most  accomplished  either  among  the  men  of  the 
sword,  or  of  the  gown.  The  one  was  the  Marquis  de 
Flamarens,  *  the  sad  object  of  the  sad  elegies  of  the 
Countess  de  la  Suse,  f  the  other  was  the  president  Tam- 
bonneau,  the  most  humble  and  most  obedient  servant 
and  admirer  of  tli^  beauteous  Luynes.  As  they  arrived 
together,  they  exerted  every  endeavor  to  shine  in  concert: 
their  talents  were  as  different  as  their  persons  ;  Tambon- 
neau,+  who  was  tolerably  ugly,  founded  his  hopes  upon  a 
great  store  of  wit,  which,  however,  no  person  in  England 
could  find  out ;  and  Flamarens,  by  his  air  and  mien, 
courted  admiration,  which  was  flatly  denied  him. 


*A  Monsieur  Flaniarin,  but  whether  the  same  person  as  here  de- 
scribed cannot  be  exactly  ascertained,  is  mentioned,  in  Sydney's  Let- 
ters, to  have  been  in  England  at  a  later  period  than  is  comprehended 
in  these  Memoirs.  "Monsieur  de  Flamarin  hath  been  received  at 
Windsor  as  seriously  as  if  it  had  been  believed  the  Queen  of  Spain's 
marriage  should  not  hold  unless  it  were  here  approved  ;  and  the  for- 
malities that  are  usual  with  men  of  business  having  been  observed  to 
him,  he  is  grown  to  think  he  is  so." — Sydney's  Works,  p.  94. 

t  This  lady  was  the  daughter  of  Gaspar  de  Coligni,  marshal  of  France, 
and  was  celebrated  in  her  time  for  her  wit  and  her  elegies.  She  was 
one  of  the  few  women  with  whom  Christina,  Queen  of  Sweden,  con- 
descended to  become  intimate.  Though  educated  a  Protestant,  .she 
embraced  the  Roman  Catholic  religion,  less  from  a  motive  of  devotion, 
than  to  have  a  pretence  for  parting  from  her  husband,  who  was  a 
Protestant,  and  for  whom  she  had  an  invincible  abhorrence  ;  which 
occasioned  the  queen  to  say  :  "The  Coinitess  of  Suse  became  a  Cath- 
olic, that  she  might  neither  meet  her  husband  in  this  world  nor  the 
next." — See  Lacombe's  Life  0/  Queen  Christina.  The  countess  died 
in  1673. 

X  I  find  this  person  mentioned  in  Memoirs  of  the  Court  of  France, 
8vo.,  1702,  part  ii.,  p.  42. 


232 


MEMOIRvS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


They  had  agreed  mutually  to  assist  each  other,  in 
order  to  succeed  in  their  intentions  ;  and  therefore,  in 
their  first  visits,  the  one  appeared  in  state,  and  the  other 
was  the  spokesman.  But  they  found  the  ladies  in  Eng- 
land of  a  far  different  taste  from  those  who  had  rendered 
them  famous  in  France  :  the  rhetoric  of  the  one  had  no 
effect  on  the  fair  sex,  and  the  fine  mien  of  the  other 
distinguished  him  only  in  a  minuet,  which  he  first  in- 
troduced into  England,  and  which  he  danced  with 
tolerable  success.  The  English  court  had  been  too 
long  accustomed  to  the  solid  wit  of  Saint  Evremond, 
and  the  natural  and  singular  charms  of  his  hero,  to  be 
seduced  by  appearances  ;  however,  as  the  English  have, 
in  general,  a  sort  of  predilection  in  favor  of  anything 
that  has  the  appearance  of  bravery,  Flamarens  was 
better  received  on  account  of  a  duel,  which,  obliging 
him  to  leave  his  own  coi:ntry,  was  a  recommendation  to 
him  in  England. 

Miss  Hamilton  had,  at  first,  the  honor  of  being  dis- 
tinguished by  Tambonneau,  who  thought  she  possessed 
a  sufficient  share  of  wit  to  discover  the  delicacy  of  his  ; 
and,  being  delighted  to  find  that  nothing  was  lost  in 
her  conversation,  either  as  to  the  turn,  the  expression, 
or  beauty  of  the  thought,  he  frequently  did  her  the  favor 
to  converse  with  her  ;  and,  perhaps,  he  would  never 
have  found  out  that  he  was  tiresome,  if,  contentiug  him- 
self with  the  disjDlay  of  his  eloquence,  he  had  not 
thought  proper  to  attack  her  heart.  This  was  carrying 
the  matter  a  little  too  far  for  Miss  Hamilton's  com- 
plaisance, who  was  of  opinion  that  she  had  already 
shown  him  too  much  for  the  tropes  of  his  harangues:  he 
was  therefore  desired  to  try  somewhere  else  the  ex- 
periment of  his  seducing  tongue,  and  not  to  lose  the 
merit  of  his  former  constancy  by  an  infidelity  which 
would  be  of  no  advantage  to  him. 

He  followed  this  advice  like  a  wise  and  tractable 
man  ;  and  some  time  after,  returning  to  his  old  mistress 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


233 


in  France,  he  began  to  lay  in  a  store  of  politics  for  those 
important  negotiations  in  which  he  has  since  been  em- 
ployed. 

It  was  not  till  after  his  departure  that  the  Chevalier 
de  Grammont  heard  of  the  amorous  declaration  he  had 
made  :  this  was  a  confidence  of  no  great  importance  ;  it, 
however,  saved  Tambonneau  from  some  ridicule  which 
might  have  fallen  to  his  share  before  he  went  away. 
His  colleague,  Flamarens,  deprived  of  his  support,  soon 
perceived  that  he  was  not  likely  to  meet  in  England 
with  the  success  he  had  expected,  both  from  love  and 
fortune  :  but  Lord  Falmouth,  ever  attentive  to  the  glory 
of  his  master,  in  the  relief  of  illustrious  men  in  distress, 
provided  for  his  subsistence,  and  Lady  Southesk  for  his 
pleasures  :  he  obtained  a  pension  from  the  king,  and 
from  her  everj'thing  he  desired  ;  and  most  happy  was  it 
for  him  that  she  had  no  other  present  to  bestow  but  that 
of  her  heart. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Talbot,  whom  we  have  before 
mentioned,  and  who  was  afterwards  created  Duke  of 
Tyrconnel,*  fell  in  love  with  Miss  Hamilton.  There 

*  Richard  Talbot,  the  fifth  son  "of  an  Irish  family,  but  of  ancient 
English  extraction,  which  had  always  inhabited  within  that  circle  that 
was  called  the  Pale ;  which,  being  originally  an  English  plantation, 
was,  in  so  many  hundred  years,  for  the  most  part  degenerated  into 
the  manners  of  the  Irish,  and  rose  and  mingled  with  them  in  the  late 
rebellion  :  and  of  this  family  there  wei-e  two  distinct  families,  who  had 
competent  estates,  and  lived  in  many  descents  in  the  rank  of  gentlemen 
of  quality."  Thus  far  Lord  Clarendon  ;  who  adds,  that  Richard  Talbot 
and  his  "brothers  were  all  the  sons,  or  the  grandsons,  of  one  who  was 
a  judge  in  Ireland,  and  esteemed  a  learned  man." — Continuation  of 
Clarendon.  Of  the  person  now  under  consideration  the  same  writer 
appears,  and  with  great  reason,  to  have  entertained  a  very  ill  opinion. 
Dick  Talbot,  as  he  was  called,  "was  brought  into  Flanders  first  by  Daniel 
O'Neile,  as  one  who  was  willing  to  assa.ssinate  Cromwell ;  and  he  made 
a  journey  into  England  with  that  resolution,  not  long  before  his  death, 
and  after  it  returned  into  Flanders,  ready  to  do  all  that  he  should  be 
recjuired.  He  was  a  very  handsome  young  man,  wore  good  clothes,  and 
was,  without  doubt,  of  a  clear,  ready  courage,  which  was  virtue  enough 
to  recommend  a  man  to  the  duke's  good  opinion  ;  which,  with  more 


234 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


was  not  a  more  genteel  man  at  court :  he  was  indeed  but 
a  younger  brother,  though  of  a  very  ancient  family, 
which,  however,  was  not  very  considerable  either  for  its 
renown  or  its  riches  ;  and  though  he  was  naturally  of  a 
careless  disposition,  yet,  being  intent  upon  making  his 
fortune,  and  much  in  favor  with  the  Duke  of  York,  and 
fortune  likewise  favoring  him  at  play,  he  had  improved 
both  so  well  that  he  was  in  possession  of  about  forty 
thousand  pounds  a  year  in  land.  He  offered  himself  to 
Miss  Hamilton,  with  this  fortune,  together  with  the 
almost  certain  hopes  of  being  made  a  peer  of  the  realm, 
by  his  master's  credit ;  and,  over-and-above  all,  as  many 
sacrifices  as  she  could  desire  of  Lady  Shrewsbury's 

expedition  than  could  be  expected,  lie  got,  to  that  degree,  that  he  was 
made  of  his  bed-chamber ;  and  from  that  qualification  embarked  himself 
after  the  king's  return,  in  the  pretences  of  the  Irish,  with  such  an 
unusual  confidence,  and,  upon  private  contracts,  with  such  scandalous 
circumstances,  that  the  chancellor  had  sometimes,  at  the  council-table, 
been  obliged  to  give  him  severe  reprehensions,  and  often  desired  the 
duke  to  withdraw  his  countenance  from  him. " — Coiiliiiiiatioii  of  Claren- 
don. It  is  to  be  remembered  that  he  was  one  of  the  men  of  honor 
already  noticed.  On  King  James's  accession  to  the  throne,  he  was 
created  Earl  of  Tyrcouuel,  and  placed,  as  lieutenant-general,  at  the 
head  of  the  Irish  army,  where  his  conduct  was  so  agreeable  to  his 
sovereign,  that  he  was,  in  1689,  advanced  to  the  dignity  of  Duke  of 
Tyrconnel.  He  was  afterwards  employed  by  the  king  in  Ireland,  where 
his  efforts  were  without  effect.  The  Duke  of  Berwick  says,  "his  stature 
was  above  the  ordinary  size.  He  had  great  experience  of  the  world, 
having  been  early  introduced  info  the  best  company,  and  possessed  of 
an  honorable  employment  in  the  household  of  the  Duke  of  York  ;  who, 
upon  his  succession  to  the  crown,  raised  him  to  the  dignity  of  an  earl, 
and,  well  knowing  his  zeal  and  attachment,  made  him  soon  after  viceroy 
of  Ireland.  He  was  a  man  of  very  good  sense,  very  obliging,  but  immod- 
erately vain,  and  full  of  cunning.  Though  he  had  acquired  great  pos- 
sessions, it  could  not  be  said  that  he  had  employed  improper  means  ;  for 
he  never  appeared  to  have  a  passion  for  money.  He  had  not  a  military 
genius,  but  much  courage.  After  the  Prince  of  Orange's  invasion,  liis 
firmness  preserved  Ireland,  and  he  nobly  refused  all  the  offers  that  were 
made  to  induce  him  to  submit.  From  the  time  of  the  battle  of  the 
Boyne,  he  sank  prodigiously,  being  become  as  irresolute  in  his  mind  as 
unwieldly  in  his  person." — Memoirs,  vol.  i.,  p.  94.  He  died  at  Lim- 
erick, 5th  August,  1 69 1. 


MEHrOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


235 


letters,  pictures,  and  hair  ;  curiosities  which,  indeed,  are 
reckoned  for  nothing  in  housekeeping,  but  which  testify 
strongly  in  favor  of  the  sincerity  and  merit  of  a  lover. 

Such  a  rival  was  not  to  be  despised  ;  and  the  Cheva- 
lier de  Graniniont  thought  him  the  more  dangerous,  as 
he  perceived  that  Talbot  was  desperately  in  love  ;  that 
he  was  not  a  man  to  be  discouraged  by  a  first  repulse  ; 
that  he  had  too  much  sense  and  good  breeding  to  draw 
upon  himself  either  contempt  or  coldness  by  too  great 
eagerness  ;  and,  besides  this,  his  brothers  began  to  fre- 
quent the  house.  One  of  these  brothers  wexs  almoner  to 
the  queen,*  an  intriguing  Jesuit,  and  a  great  match- 
maker :  the  other  was  what  was  called  a  lay-monk,  f  who 
had  nothing  of  his  order  but  the  immorality  and  infamy 
of  character  which  is  ascribed  to  them  ;  and  withal, 
frank  and  free,  and  sometimes  entertaining,  but  ever 
ready  to  speak  bold  and  offensive  truths,  and  to  do  good 
offices. 

When  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  reflected  upon  all 
these  things,  there  certainly  was  strong  ground  for  un- 
easiness: nor  was  the  indifference  which  Miss  Hamilton 
showed  for  the  addresses  of  his  rival  sufficient  to  remove 
his  fears;  for  being  absolutely  dependent  on  her  father's 
will,  she  could  only  answer  for  her  own  intentions  :  but 
Fortune,  who  seemed  to  have  taken  him  under  her  pro- 
tection in  England,  now  delivered  him  from  all  his  un- 
easiness. 

Talbot  had  for  man)-  }-ears  stood  forward  as  the  patron 
of  the  distressed  Irish  :  this  zeal  for  his  countrymen  was 
certainly  very  commendable  in  itself;  at  the  same  time. 


*  This  was  Peter  Talbot,  whose  character  is  drawu  by  Lord  Claren- 
don in  terms  not  more  favorable  than  those  in  which  his  brother  is 
portrayed. — See  Continuation  of  Clarendon,  p.  363. 

t  Thomas  Talbot,  a  Franciscan  friar,  of  wit  enough,  sa3-s  Lord 
Clarendon,  but  of  notorious  debauchery.  More  particulars  of  this  man 
may  be  found  in  the  same  noble  historian. — See  Continuation  of 
Clarendon,  p.  363. 


236 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


however,  it  was  not  altogether  free  from  self-interest : 
for,  out  of  all  the  estates  he  had,  through  his  credit,  pro- 
cured the  restoration  of  to  their  primitive  owners,  he  had 
always  obtained  some  small  compensation  for  himself ; 
but,  as  each  owner  found  his  advantage  in  it,  no  com- 
plaint was  made.  Nevertheless,  as  it  is  very  difficult  to 
use  fortune  and  favor  with  moderation,  and  not  to  swell 
with  the  gales  of  prosperity,  some  of  his  proceedings  had 
an  air  of  haughtiness  and  independence  which  offended 
the  Duke  of  Ormond,*  then  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland, 
as  injurious  to  his  Grace's  authority.  The  duke  resented 
this  behavior  with  great  spirit.  As  there  certainly  was 
a  great  difference  between  them,  both  as  to  their  birth 
and  rank,  and  to  their  credit,  it  had  been  prudent  in 
Talbot  to  have  had  recourse  to  apologies  and  submission ; 
but  such  conduct  ajjpeared  to  him  base,  and  unworthy 
for  a  man  of  his  importance  to  submit  to:  he  accordingly 
acted  with  haughtiness  and  insolence ;  but  he  was  soon  con- 
vinced of  his  error;  for,  having  inconsiderately  launched 
oat  into  some  arrogant  expressions  which  it  neither 
became  him  to  iitter  nor  the  Duke  of  Ormond  to  forgive, 
he  was  sent  prisoner  to  the  Tower,  from  whence  he 
could  not  be  released  until  he  had  made  all  necessary 
submissions  to  his  Grace  :  he  therefore  employed  all  his 
friends  for  that  purpose,  and  was  obliged  to  yield  more 
to  get  out  of  this  scrape  than  would  have  been  necessary 
to  have  avoided  it.  By  this  imprudent  conduct  he  lost 
all  hopes  of  marrying  into  a  family,  which,  after  such  a 
proceeding,  was  not  likely  to  listen  to  any  proposal  from 
him. 

It  was  with  great  difficulty  and  mortification  that  he 
was  obliged  to  suppress  a  passion  which  had  made  far 
greater  progress  in  his  heart  than  this  quarrel  had  done 

*  A  very  exact  account  of  this  transaction  is  given  by  Lord  Claren- 
don, by  which  it  appears  that  Talbot  was  committed  to  the  Tower  for 
threatening  to  assassinate  the  Duke  of  Ormond. — Continuation  of 
Clarendon,  j).  362. 


MKMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


237 


good  to  his  affairs.  This  being  the  case,  he  was  of 
opinion  that  his  presence  was  necessary  in  Ireland,  and 
that  he  was  better  ont  of  the  way  of  Miss  Hamilton,  to 
remove  those  impressions  which  still  troubled  his 
repose:  his  departure,  therefore,  soon  followed  this  reso- 
lution. 

Talbot  played  deep,  and  was  tolerably  forgetful  :  the 
Chevalier  de  Grammont  won  three  or  four  hundred  guin- 
eas of  him  the  very  evening  on  which  he  was  sent  to  the 
Tower.  That  accident  had  made  him  forget  his  usual 
punctuality  in  paying  the  next  morning  whatever  he  had 
lost  over-night;  and  this  debt  had  so  far  escaped  his  mem- 
ory, that  it  never  once  occurred  to  him  after  he  was  en- 
larged. The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  who  saw  him  at 
his  departure,  without  taking  the  least  notice  of  the 
money  he  owed  him,  wished  him  a  good  journey  ;  and, 
having  met  him  at  court,  as  he  came  to  take  his  leave  of 
the  king:  "Talbot,"  said  he,  "  if  my  services  can  be  of 
any  use  to  you  during  your  absence,  you  have  but  to 
command  them:  you  know  old  Russell  has  left  his  nephew 
as  his  resident  with  Miss  Hamilton:  if  you  please,  I  will 
act  for  you  in  the  same  capacity.  Adieu,  God  bless  you: 
be  sure  not  to  fall  sick  upon  the  road;  but  if  you  should, 
pray  remember  me  in  your  will."  Talbot,  who,  upon 
this  compliment,  immediately  recollected  the  money  he 
owed  the  Chevalier,  burst  out  a-laughing,  and  embracing 
him:  "My  dear  Chevalier,"  said  he,  "I  am  so  much 
obliged  to  you  for  your  offer,  that  I  resign  you  my  mis- 
tress, and  will  send  you  your  money  instantly."  The 
Chevalier  de  Grammont  possessed  a  thousand  of  these 
genteel  ways  of  refreshing  the  memories  of  those  persons 
who  were  apt  to  be  forgetful  in  their  payments.  The 
following  is  the  method  he  used  some  years  after  with 
IvOrd  Cornwallis:  *  this  lord  had  married  the  daughter  of 


*  Charles,  the  third  I^onl  Cornwallis,  born  in  1655.  He  married, 
December  27,  1673,  Elizabeth,  the  chlest  d.uij(hter  of  .Sir  .Stephen  Fox, 


238 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Sir  Stephen  Fox,*  treasurer  of  the  king's  household,  one 
of  the  richest  and  most  regular  men  in  England.  His 
son-in-law,  on  the  contrary,  was  a  young  spendthrift, 
was  very  extravagant,  loved  gaming,  lost  as  much  as  any 
one  would  trust  him,  but  was  not  quite  so  ready  at  pay- 
ing. His  father-in-law  disapproved  of  his  conduct,  paid 
his  debts,  and  gave  him  a  lecture  at  the  same  time.  The 
Chevalier  de  Grammont  had  won  of  him  a  thousand  or 
twelve  hundred  guineas,  which  he  heard  no  tidings  of, 
although  he  was  upon  the  eve  of  his  departure,  and  he 
had  taken  leave  of  Cornwallis  in  a  more  particular  man- 
ner than  any  other  person.  This  obliged  the  Chevalier 
to  write  him  a  billet,  which  was  rather  laconic.  It  was 
this: 

"My  L,ord, 

"Pray  remember  the  Count  de  Grammont,  and  do 
not  forget  Sir  Stephen  Fox." 

To  return  to  Talbot  :  he  went  away  more  concerned 

knight,  and  afterwards,  in  1688,  the  widow  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth. 
Lord  Cornwallis  died  April  29,  1698. 

*  This  gentleman  is  said  to  have  been  of  a  genteel  family,  settled  at 
Farley,  in  Wiltshire,  and  was  the  architect  of  his  own  fortune.  Lord 
Clarendon  says,  in  his  History  of  the  Rebellion,  that  he  was  entertained 
by  Lord  Percy,  then  lord  chamberlain  of  the  king's  household,  at  Paris, 
about  the  year  1652,  and  continued  in  His  Majesty's  service  until  the 
Restoration.  On  that  event  he  was  made  clerk  of  the  green  cloth,  and 
afterwards  paymaster-general  of  the  forces  in  England.  On  the  ist  July, 
1665,  he  was  knighted.  In  1680,  he  was  constituted  one  of  the  lords 
commissioners  of  the  treasury.  On  the  accession  of  James  II.,  he  was 
continued  first  clerk  of  the  green  cloth  ;  and  in  December,  1686,  was 
again  appointed  one  of  the  commissioners  of  the  treasury.  At  the  rev- 
olution, he  concurred  in  voting  the  throne  vacant ;  and,  on  19th  March, 
16S9,  was  a  third  time  appointed  to  the  treasury,  which  place  he  held 
until  he  retired  from  public  lousiness,  in  1701.  By  his  first  lady  he  had 
seven  sons  and  three  daughters  ;  and  by  his  second,  whom  he  married 
in  the  year  1703,  when  he  was  76  j-ears  of  age,  he  had  two  sons,  who 
both  afterwards  became  peers, — Stephen,  Earl  of  Ilcliester,  and  Henry, 
Lord  Holland,  and  two  daughters.  He  died  in  the  year  1716,  at  Chis- 
wick,  in  his  89tli  year. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


239 


than  became  a  man  who  had  voluntarily  resigned  his 
mistress  to  another :  neither  his  stay  in  Ireland,  nor  his 
solicitude  about  his  domestic  affairs,  perfectly  cured  him; 
and  if  at  his  return  he  found  himself  disengaged  from 
Miss  Hamilton's  chains,  it  was  only  to  exchange  them 
for  others.  The  alteration  that  had  taken  place  in  the 
two  courts  occasioned  this  change  in  him,  as  we  shall  see 
in  the  sequel. 

We  have  hitherto  onl\-  mentioned  the  queen's  maids 
of  honor,  upon  account  of  Miss  Stewart  and  Miss  War- 
mestre:  the  others  were  Miss  Bellenden,  Mademoiselle  de 
la  Garde,  and  INIademoiselle  Bardou,  all  maids  of  honor, 
as  it  pleased  God. 

Miss  Bellenden  was  no  beauty,  but  was  a  good-natured 
girl,  whose  chief  merit  consisted  in  being  plump  and 
fresh -colored  ;  and  who,  not  having  a  sufficient  stock  of 
wit  to  be  a  coquette  in  form,  used  all  her  endeavors  to 
please  every  person  by  her  complaisance.  IMademoiselle 
de  la  Garde,  and  jMademoiselle  Bardou,  both  French, 
had  been  preferred  to  their  places  by  the  queen  dowager: 
the  first  was  a  little  brunette,  who  was  continually  med- 
dling in  the  affairs  of  her  companions  ;  and  the  other  by 
all  means  claimed  the  rank  of  a  maid  of  honor,  though 
she  only  lodged  with  the  others,  and  both  her  title  and 
services  were  constantly  contested. 

It  was  hardly  possible  for  a  woman  to  be  more  ugly, 
with  so  fine  a  shape  ;  but  as  a  recompense,  her  ugliness 
was  set  off  with  every  art.  The  use  she  was  put  to  was 
to  dance  with  Flamarens,  and  sometimes,  towards  the 
conclusion  of  a  ball,  possessed  of  castanets  and  effrontery, 
she  would  dance  some  figured  saraband  or  other,  which 
amused  the  court.  Let  us  now  see  in  what  manner  this 
ended. 

As  i\Iiss  Stewart  was  very  seldom  in  waiting  on  the 
queen,  she  was  scarcely  considered  as  a  maid  of  honor  : 
the  others  went  off  almost  at  the  same  time,  by  different 
adventures  ;  and  this  is  the  history  of  Miss  Warmestre, 


240 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


whom  we  have  before  mentioned,  when  speaking  of  the 
Chevalier  de  Grammont. 

Lord  Taaffe,  eldest  son  of  the  Earl  of  Carlingford,* 
was  supposed  to  be  in  love  with  her  ;  and  Miss  War- 
mestre  not  only  imagined  it  was  so,  but  likewise  persuaded 
herself  that  he  would  not  fail  to  marry  her  the  first  op- 
portunity ;  and  in  the  meantime  she  thought  it  her  duty 
to  entertain  him  with  all  the  civility  imaginable.  Taaffe 
had  made  the  Duke  of  Richmond  f  his  confidant  :  these 
two  were  particularly  attached  to  each  other  ;  but  still 
more  so  to  wine.  The  Duke  of  Richmond,  notwith- 
standing his  birth,  made  but  an  indifferent  figure  at 
court ;  and  the  king  respected  him  still  less  than  his 
courtiers  did  :  and  perhaps  it  was  in  order  to  court  His 
Majesty's  favor  that  he  thought  proper  to  fall  in  love 
with  Miss  Stewart.  The  Duke  and  Lord  Taaffe  made 
each  other  the  confidants  of  their  respective  engage- 
ments ;  and  these  were  the  measures  they  took  to  put 
their  designs  in  execution.    Little  Mademoiselle  de  la 


*  Nicholas,  the  third  Viscount  Taaffe,  and  second  Earl  of  Carling- 
ford. He  was  of  the  privy-council  to  King  James  II.,  and,  in  1689, 
went  as  envoy  to  the  Emperor  Leopold.  He  lost  his  life  the  next  year, 
1st  July,  at  the  battle  of  the  Boyne,  commanding  at  that  time  a  regi- 
ment of  foot.  This  nobleman,  although  he  succeeded  his  father  in  his 
title,  was  not  his  eldest  son.  King  Charles  appears  to  have  had  a  great 
regard  for  the  family.  In  a  letter  from  Lord  Arlington  to  Sir  Richard 
Fanshaw,  dated  April  21,  1664,  that  nobleman  says:  "Colonel  Luke 
Taaffe  (a  brother  of  my  Lord  Carlingford's)  hath  served  his  catholic 
majesty  many  years  in  the  state  of  Milan,  with  a  standing  regiment 
there  ;  which  regiment  he  desires  now  to  deliver  over  to  Captain 
Nicholas  Taaffe,  a  younger  son  of  my  Lord  Carlingford's,  and  the  col- 
onel's nephew,  who  is  now  a  captain  of  the  regiment;  and  His  Majesty 
commands  me  to  recommend  to  your  excellency  the  bringing  this  to 
pass,  for  the  affection  he  hath  to  the  family,  and  the  merit  of  this  yoimg 
gentleman." — Arlington^ s  Letters,  vol.  ii.,  p.  21. 

t  Charles  Stewart,  Duke  of  Richmond  and  Lennox.  He  was  after- 
wards sent  ambassador  to  Denmark,  and  died  at  Elsinore,  December 
12,  1672.  Burnet  sa3'S  he  "  was  sent  to  give  a  lustre  to  the  negotiation, 
which  was  chiefly  managed  by  Mr.  Henshaw." — History  0/  his  Own 
Times,  vol.  i.,  p.  425. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


241 


Garde  *  was  charged  to  acquaint  Miss  Stewart  that  the 
Duke  of  Richmond  was  dying  of  love  for  her,  and 
that  when  he  ogled  her  in  public  it  was  a  certain  sign 
that  he  was  ready  to  marry  her,  as  soon  as  ever  she  would 
consent. 

TaafFe  had  no  connnission  to  give  the  little  ambas- 
sadress for  Miss  Warmestre ;  for  there  everything  was 
already  arranged;  but  she  was  charged  to  settle  and  pro- 
vide some  conveniences  which  were  still  wanting  for  the 
freedom  of  their  commerce,  such  as  to  have  free  egress 
and  regress  to  her  at  all  hours  of  the  day  or  night ;  this 
appeared  difficult  to  be  obtained,  but  it  was,  however,  at 
length  accomplished. 

The  governess  of  the  maids  of  honor,  who  for  the 
world  would  not  have  connived  at  anything  that  was  not 
fair  and  honorable,  consented  that  they  should  sup  as 
often  as  they  pleased  in  Miss  Warmestre's  apartments, 
provided  their  intentions  were  honorable,  and  she  one 
of  the  company.  The  good  old  lady  was  particularly 
fond  of  green  oysters,  and  had  no  aversion  to  Spanish 
wine  :  she  was  certain  of  finding  at  every  one  of  these 
suppers  two  barrels  of  oysters  ;  one  to  be  eaten  with  the 
party,  and  the  other  for  her  to  carry  away  :  as  soon, 
therefore,  as  she  had  taken  her  dose  of  wine,  she  took 
her  leave  of  the  company. 

It  was  much  about  the  time  that  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramniont  had  cast  his  eyes  upon  Miss  Warmestre,  that 
this  kind  of  life  was  led  in  her  chamber.  God  knows 
how  many  ham  pies,  bottles  of  wine,  and  other  products 
of  his  lordship's  liberality  were  there  consumed  ! 


*  Daughter  of  Charles  PeHot,  Lord  de  la  Garde,  whose  eldest 
daughter  married  Sir  Thomas  Bond,  comptroller  of  the  household  to 
the  queen-mother.  Sir  Thomas  Bond  had  a  considerable  estate  at 
Peckham,  and  his  second  son  married  the  niece  of  Jermyn,  one  of 
the  heroes  of  these  Memoirs. — See  Coll  ins' s  Baronetage,  vol.  iii.,  p. 
4.  She  became  the  \\-ife  of  Sir  Gabriel  Silvius,  and  died  13th  Oc- 
tober, 1730. 
16 


242 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


In  the  midst  of  these  nocturnal  festivals,  and  of  this 
innocent  commerce,  a  relation  of  Killegrew's  came  up 
to  London  about  a  lawsuit :  he  gained  his  cause,  but 
nearly  lost  his  senses. 

He  was  a  country  gentleman,  who  had  been  a  widower 
about  six  months,  and  was  possessed  of  fifteen  or  sixteen 
thousand  pounds  a  year  :  the  good  man,  who  had  no  busi- 
ness at  court,  went  thither  merely  to  see  his  cousin  Kille- 
grew,  who  could  have  dispensed  with  his  visits.  He 
there  saw  Miss  Warmestre ;  and  at  first  sight  fell  in  love 
with  her.  His  passion  increased  to  such  a  degree  that, 
having  no  rest  either  by  day  or  by  night,  he  was  obliged 
to  have  recourse  to  extraordinary  remedies;  he  therefore 
early  one  morning  called  upon  his  cousin  Killegrew, 
told  him  his  case,  and  desired  him  to  demand  Miss 
Warmestre  in  marriage  for  him. 

Killegrew  was  struck  with  wonder  and  astonishment 
when  he  heard  his  design:  nor  could  he  cease  wondering 
at  what  sort  of  creature,  of  all  the  women  in  London, 
his  cousin  had  resolved  upon  marrying.  It  was  some  time 
before  Killegrew  could  believe  that  he  was  in  earnest ; 
but  when  he  was  convinced  that  he  was,  he  began  to 
enumerate  the  dangers  and  inconveniences  attending  so 
rash  an  enterprise.  He  told  him  that  a  girl  educated  at 
court  was  a  terrible  piece  of  furniture  for  the  country ; 
that  to  carry  her  thither  against  her  inclination  would 
as  effectual h'  rob  him  of  his  happiness  and  repose  as  if 
he  was  transported  to  hell  ;  that  if  he  consented  to  let 
her  stay,  he  needed  only  to  comiDUte  what  it  would  cost 
him  in  equipage,  table,  clothes,  and  ganiing-money,  to 
maintain  her  in  London  according  to  her  caprices ;  and 
then  to  cast  up  how  long  his  fifteen  thousand  a-year 
woiild  last. 

His  cousin  had  already  formed  this  computation  ;  but, 
finding  his  reason  less  potent  than  his  love,  he  remained 
fixed  in  his  resolution;  and  Killegrew,  yielding  at  length 
to  his  importunities,  went  and  offered  his  cousin,  bound 


MKMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


243 


liand  and  foot,  to  the  victorious  fair.  As  he  dreaded 
nothing  more  than  a  compliance  on  her  part,  so  nothing 
could  astonish  him  more  than  the  contempt  with  which 
she  received  his  proposal.  The  scorn  with  which  she 
refused  him,  made  him  believe  that  she  was  sure  of  Lord 
Taaffe,  and  wonder  how  a  girl  like  her  could  find  out 
two  men  who  would  venture  to  marry  her.  He  hastened 
to  relate  this  refusal,  with  all  the  most  aggravating  cir- 
cumstances, as  the  best  news  he  could  carry  to  his  cousin; 
but  his  cousin  would  not  believe  him  :  he  supposed  that 
Killegrew  disguised  the  truth,  for  the  same  reasons  he 
had  already  alleged  ;  and  not  daring  to  mention  the 
matter  any  more  to  him,  he  resolved  to  wait  iipon  her 
himself.  He  summoned  all  his  courage  for  the  enter- 
prise, and  got  his  compliment  by  heart  ;  but  as  soon  as 
he  had  opened  his  mouth  for  the  purpose,  she  told  him 
he  might  have  saved  himself  the  trouble  of  calling  on  her 
about  such  a  ridiculous  affair;  that  she  had  already  given 
her  answer  to  Killegrew  ;  and  that  she  neither  had,  nor 
ever  should  have,  any  other  to  give  ;  which  w'ords  she 
accompanied  with  all  the  severity  with  which  impor- 
tunate demands  are  usually  refused. 

He  was  more  affected  than  confounded  at  this  repulse: 
everything  became  odious  to  him  in  London,  and  he 
himself  more  so  than  all  the  rest :  he  therefore  left  town, 
without  taking  leave  of  his  cousin,  went  back  to  his 
country-seat,  and  thinking  it  would  be  impossible  for 
him  to  live  without  the  inhuman  fair,  he  resolved  to 
neglect  no  opportunity  in  his  power  to  hasten  his  death. 

But  whilst,  in  order  to  indulge  his  sorrow,  he  had  for- 
saken all  intercourse  with  dogs  and  horses  ;  that  is  to 
say,  renounced  all  the  delights  and  endearments  of  a 
country  squire,  the  scornful  nymph,  who  was  certainly 
mistaken  in  her  reckoning,  took  the  libert}-  of  being 
brought  to-bed  in  the  face  of  the  whole  court. 

An  adventure  so  public  made  no  small  noise,  as  we 
may  very  well  imagine :  all  the  prudes  at  court  at  once 


244 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


broke  loose  upon  it  ;  and  those  principally,  whose  age  or 
persons  secnred  them  from  any  snch  scandal,  were  the 
most  inveterate,  and  cried  most  loudly  for  justice.  But 
the  governess  of  the  maids  of  honor,  who  might  have 
been  called  to  an  account  for  it,  affirmed  that  it  was 
nothing  at  alf,  and  that  she  was  possessed  of  circum- 
stances which  would  at  once  silence  all  censorious 
tongues.  She  had  an  audience  of  the  queen,  in  order  to 
unfold  the  mystery  ;  and  related  to  Her  Majesty  how 
everything  had  passed  with  her  consent,  that  is  to  say, 
upon  honorable  terms. 

The  queen  sent  to  inquire  of  Lord  Taafif'e,  whether  he 
acknowledged  Miss  Warmestre  for  his  wife  :  to  which 
he  most  respectfully  returned  for  answer,  that  he  neither 
acknowledged  Miss  Warmestre  nor  her  child,  and  that 
he  wondered  why  she  should  rather  father  it  upon  him 
than  any  other.  The  imfortunate  Warmestre,  more  en- 
raged at  this  answer  than  at  the  loss  of  such  a  lover, 
quitted  the  court  as  soon  as  ever  she  was  able,  with  a 
resolution  of  quitting  the  world  the  first  opportunity. 

Killegrew,  being  upon  the  point  of  setting  out  upon  a 
journey  when  this  adventure  happened,  thought  he  might 
as  well  call  upon  his  afflicted  cousin  in  his  way,  to  ac- 
quaint him  with  the  circumstance  ;  and  as  soon  as  he  saw 
him,  without  paying  any  attention  to  the  delicacy  of  his 
love,  or  to  his  feelings,  he  bluntly  told  him  the  whole 
story :  nor  did  he  omit  any  coloring  that  could  heighten 
his  indignation,  in  order  to  make  him  burst  with  shame 
and  resentment. 

We  read  that  the  gentle  Tiridates  quietly  expired 
upon  the  recital  of  the  death  of  Marianne  ;  but  Kille- 
grew's  fond  cousin  falling  devoutly  upon  his  knees,  and 
lifting  up  his  eyes  to  Heaven,  poured  forth  this  exclama- 
tion : 

"  Praised  be  the  Lord  for  a  small  misfortune,  which 
perhaps  may  prove  the  comfort  of  my  life  !  Who  knows 
but  the  beauteous  Warmestre  will  now  accept  of  me  for  a 


MEMOIR.S  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


245 


husband  ;  and  that  I  may  have  the  happiness  of  passing- 
the  remainder  of  my  days  with  a  woman  I  adore,  and  by 
wlK)m  I  may  expect  to  have  heirs?"  "Certainly," 
said  Killegrew,  more  confonnded  than  his  cousin  ought 
to  have  been  on  such  an  occasion,  "you  may  depend 
upon  having  both  :  I  make  no  manner  of  doubt  but  she 
will  marry  you  as  soon  as  ever  she  is  recovered  from  her 
lying-in  ;  and  it  would  be  a  great  ill-nature  in  her,  who 
already  knows  the  way,  to  let  you  want  children  ;  how- 
ever, in  the  meantime,  I  advise  you  to  take  that  she  has 
already,  till  you  get  more." 

Notwithstanding  this  raillery,  all  that  was  said  did 
take  place.  This  faithful  lover  courted  her,  as  if  she 
had  been  the  chaste  Lucretia,  or  the  beauteous  Helen  : 
his  passion  even  increased  after  marriage,  and  the  gener- 
ous fair,  first  out  of  gratitude,  and  afterwards  through 
inclination,  never  brought  him  a  child  of  which  he  was 
not  the  father  ;  and  thotigh  there  have  been  many  a 
happy  couple  in  England,  this  certainly  was  the  hap- 
piest. 

Some  time  after,  ]\Iiss  Bellenden,  not  being  terrified 
by  this  example,  had  the  prudence  to  quit  the  court  be- 
fore she  was  obliged  so  to  do  :  the  disagreeable  Bardou 
followed  her  soon  after;  but  for  different  reasons.  Every 
person  was  at  last  completeh'  tired  of  her  saraband,  as 
well  as  of  her  face  ;  and  the  king,  that  he  might  see 
neither  of  them  any  more,  gave  each  a  small  pension  for 
her  subsistence.  There  now  only  remained  little  Mad- 
emoiselle de  la  Garde  to  be  provided  for  :  neither  her 
virtues  nor  her  vices  were  sufficientl)-  conspicuous  to 
occasion  her  being  either  dismissed  from  court  or  j^ressed 
to  remain  there  :  God  knows  what  would  have  become 
of  her,  if  a  Mr.  Silvius, *  a  man  who  had  nothing  of  a 


*  Afterwards  Sir  Gahriel  Silvius.  In  Cliamherlayiie's  A n_s;lia  Noiitia, 
1669,  Gabriel  de  Sylviis  is  down  as  one  of  the  carvers  to  the  queen, 
and  ^Irs.  de  Sylviis,  one  of  the  six  chanibriers  or  dressers  to  the  (juecn. 


246 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Roman  in  him  except  the  name,  had  not  taken  the  poor 
girl  to  be  his  wife. 

We  have  now  shown  how  all  these  damsels  deserved 
to  be  expelled,  either  for  their  irregularities,  or  for  their 
ugliness;  and  yet,  those  who  replaced  them  fonnd  means 
to  make  them  regretted.  Miss  Wells  only  excepted. 

She  was  a  tall  girl,  exquisitely  shaped  :  she  dressed 
very  genteel,  walked  like  a  goddess  ;  and  yet,  her  face, 
though  made  like  those  that  generally  please  the  most, 
was  unfortunately  one  of  those  that  pleased  the  least  : 
nature  had  spread  over  it  a  certain  careless  indolence 
that  made  her  look  sheepish.  This  gave  but  a  bad 
opinion  of  her  wit :  and  her  wit  had  the  ill-luck  to  make 
good  that  opinion  :  however,  as  she  was  fresh  colored, 
and  appeared  inexperienced,  the  king,  whom  the  fair 
Stewart  did  not  render  over  nice  as  to  the  perfections  of 
the  mind,  resolved  to  try  whether  the  senses  would  not 
fare  better  with  Miss  Wells's  person  than  fine  sentiments 
with  her  understanding  :  nor  was  this  experiment  at- 
tended with  much  difficulty  :  she  was  of  a  loyal  family  ; 
and  her  father  having  faithfully  served  Charles  the  First, 
she  thought  it  her  duty  not  to  revolt  against  Charles  the 
Second.  But  this  connection  was  not  attended  with  very 
advantageous  circumstances  for  herself ;  some  pretended 
that  she  did  not  hold  out  long  enough,  and  that  she  sur- 
rendered at  discretion  before  she  was  vigorously  attacked; 
and  others  said,  that  His  Majesty  complained  of  certain 
other  facilities  still  less  pleasing.  The  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham made  a  couplet  upon  this  occasion,  wherein  the 
king,  speaking  to  Progers,  the  confidant  of  his  intrigues, 
puns  upon  the  name  of  the  fair  one,  to  the  following 
purport : 


He  was  afterwards  knighted,  and,  30th  February,  1680,  was  sent  am- 
bassador to  the  Dukes  of  Brunswick  and  Lunenburgh.  Lord  Orford 
says  he  was  a  native  of  Orange,  and  was  attached  to  the  princess-royal, 
afterwards  to  the  Duke  of  York.  He  also  says  he  was  sent  ambassador 
to  Denmark. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


247 


"When  the  king  felt  the  horrible  depth  of  this  Well, 
Tell  me,  Progers,*  cried  Cliariie,  where  am  I  ?  oh  tell ! 
Had  I  sought  the  world's  centre  to  find,  I  had  found  it, 
But  this  Well  !  ne'er  a  plummet  was  made  that  could  sound  it." 

Miss  Wells,  notwithstaiidiug  this  species  of  anagram 


*  Edward  Progers,  Esq.,  was  a  younger  soti  of  Philip  Progers,  Esq., 
of  the  family  of  Garreddin,  in  Monmouthshire.  His  father  was  a 
colonel  in  the  army,  and  equerry  to  James  I.  Edward  was  early  in- 
troduced to  court,  and,  after  having  been  page  to  Charles  I.,  was  made 
groom  of  the  V)ed-chamber  to  his  son,  while  Prince  of  Wales.  He 
attached  himself  to  the  king's  interest  during  the  war  with  the  par- 
liament, with  laudable  fidelity.  The  following  letter,  from  which 
antiquaries  may  derive  the  minute  information  that  Charles  II.  did 
wear  mourning  for  a  whole  year  for  his  father,  serves  to  show  the  fa- 
miliar style  which  Charles  used  to  Progers,  as  well  as  his  straitened 
circumstances  while  in  the  island  of  Jersej-. 

"  Progers,  I  wold  have  j  ou  (besides  the  embroidred  sute)  bring  me  a 
plaine  ridding  suite,  with  an  innocent  coate,  the  suites  I  have  for  horse- 
backe  being  so  spotted  and  spoiled  that  they  are  not  to  be  scene  out  of 
this  island.  The  lining  of  the  coate,  and  the  petit  toies  are  referred  to 
your  greate  discretion,  provided  there  want  nothing  when  it  comes  to  be 
put  on.  I  doe  not  remember  there  was  a  belt,  or  a  hat-band,  in  your 
directions  for  the  embroidred  suite,  and  those  are  so  necessarie  as  yon 
must  not  forget  them. 

"Jearsey,  14th  Jan.  old  stile,  1649.  CH.\RLiis  R." 

"  For  Mr.  Progers." 

By  a  letter  from  Cowley  to  Henrj-  Beunet,  dated  i8th  November,  1650, 
Mr.  Progers  appears  to  have  been  then  active  in  his  master's  service. — 
Brown'' s  Miscellanea  Aulica,  1702,  p.  153.  In  the  lampoons  of  the 
times,  particularly  in  those  of  Andrew  Marvell,  Mr.  Progers  is  de- 
scribed as  one  devoted  to  assist  his  master's  pleasures  ;  for  which  reason, 
perhaps,  he  was  banished  from  the  king's  presence  in  1650,  by  an  act  of 
the  estates  of  Scotland,  "  as  an  evil  instrument  and  bad  counsellor  of  the 
king."  He  is  said  to  have  obtained  several  grants  to  take  effect  upon 
the  restoration  :  but  it  does  not  appear  that  they  took  effect.  In  1660, 
he  was  named,  says  Lord  Orford,  one  of  the  knights  of  the  royal  oak, 
an  order  the  king  then  intended  to  institute.  By  the  same  authority  we 
are  informed  that  he  had  permission  from  the  king  to  build  a  house  in 
Bushy  Park,  near  Hampton  Court,  on  condition  that,  after  his  death,  it 
should  revert  to  the  crown.  This  was  the  house  inhabited  by  the  late 
Earl  of  Halifax.  He  represented  the  county  of  Brecon  in  parliament  for 
seventeen  years,  but  retired  in  1679.    On  the  death  of  his  master,  he 


248 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


upon  her  name,  and  these  remarks  upon  her  person, 
shone  the  brightest  among  her  new  companions.  These 
were  Miss  Levingston,  Miss  Fielding,  and  Miss  Boynton, 
who  little  deserve  to  be  mentioned  in  these  memoirs  ; 
therefore  we  shall  leave  them  in  obscurity  luitil  it  please 
fortune  to  draw  them  out  of  it. 

This  was  the  new  establishment  of  maids  of  honor 
to  the  queen.  The  Duchess  of  York,  nearh-  about  the 
same  time,  likewise  recruited  hers  ;  but  showed,  by  a 
happier  and  more  brilliant  choice,  that  England  pos- 
sessed an  inexhaustible  stock  of  beauties.  But  before 
we  begin  to  speak  of  them,  let  us  see  who  were  the  first 
maids  of  honor  to  her  Royal  Highness,  and  on  what 
account  they  were  removed. 

Besides  Miss  Blague  and  Miss  Price,  whom  we  have 
before  mentioned,  the  establishment  was  composed  of 
Miss  Bagot  and  IVIiss  Hobart,  the  president  of  the  com- 
munity. 

Miss  Blague,  who  never  knew  the  true  reason  of  her 
quarrel  with  the  Marquis  de  Brisacier,  took  it  up  upon 
that  fatal  letter  she  had  received  from  him,  wherein, 
without  acquainting  her  that  Miss  Price  was  to  wear  the 
same  sort  of  gloves  and  yellow  riband  as  herself,  he  had 
only  complimented  her  upon  her  hair,  her  fair  com- 
plexion, and  her  eyes  viai^cassins.  This  word  she  im- 
agined must  signify  something  particularly  wonderful, 
since  her  eyes  were  compared  to  it  ;  and  being  desirotis, 
some  time  afterwards,  to  know  all  the  energy  of  the  ex- 
pression, she  asked  the  meaning  of  the  French  word 

retired  from  public  life.  Mr.  Progers  died,  says  L,e  Neve,  "  December 
31st,  or  January  ist,  1713,  aged  96,  of  the  anguish  of  cutting  teeth,  he 
having  cut  four  new  teeth,  and  had  several  ready  to  cut,  which  so  in- 
flamed his  gnms,  that  he  died  thereof"  He  was  in  low  circumstances 
before  his  death,  and  applied  to  King  James  for  relief,  with  what  effect 
is  not  known.  Mr.  Progers  had  a  family  by  his  wife  Eliz?  beth  Wells  ; 
and  the  scandal-bearers  of  the  time  remarked,  that  his  eldest  daughter 
Philippa,  afterwards  Mrs.  Croxel,  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  Charles 
II.    Monunienta  Anglicana,  1717,  p.  273. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


249 


marcassiii.  As  there  are  no  wild  boars  in  Eng'land,  those 
to  whom  she  addressed  herself  told  her  that  it  signified 
a  young  pig.  This  scandalous  simile  confirmed  her  in 
the  belief  she  entertained  of  his  perfidy.  Brisacier,  more 
amazed  at  her  change,  than  she  was  offended  at  his 
supposed  calumny,  looked  upon  her  as  a  woman  still 
more  capricious  than  insignificant,  and  never  troubled 

himself  more  about  her  ;  but  Sir  Yarborough,  of  as 

fair  a  complexion  as  herself,  made  her  an  offer  of 
marriage  in  the  height  of  her  resentment,  and  was 
accepted  :  chance  made  up  this  match,  I  suppose,  as  an 
experiment  to  try  what  such  a  white-haired  union  would 
produce. 

Miss  Price  was  witty ;  and  as  her  person  was  not  very 
likely  to  attract  many  admirers,  which,  however,  she 
was  resolved  to  have,  she  was  far  from  being  coy  when 
an  occasion  offered  :  she  did  not  so  much  as  make  any 
terms :  she  was  violent  in  her  resentments,  as  well  as  in 
her  attachments,  which  had  exposed  her  to  son:e  incon- 
veniences ;  and  she  had  very  indiscreetly  quarrelled  with 
a  young  girl  whom  Lord  Rochester  admired.  This 
connection,  which  till  then  had  been  a  secret,  she  had 
the  imprudence  to  publish  to  the  whole  world,  and 
thereby  drew  upon  herself  the  most  dangerous  enemy  in 
the  universe  :  never  did  any  man  write  with  more  ease, 
humor,  spirit,  and  delicacy  ;  hwt  he  was  at  the  same 
time  the  most  severe  satirist. 

Poor  Miss  Price,  who  had  thus  voluntarily  provoked 
his  resentment,  was  daily  exposed  in  some  new  shape  : 
there  was  every  day  some  new  song  or  other,  the  subject 
of  which  was  her  conduct,  and  the  burden  her  name. 
How  was  it  possible  for  her  to  bear  up  against  these 
attacks,  in  a  court,  where  every  person  was  eager  to 
obtain  the  most  insignificant  trifle  that  came  from  the 
pen  of  Lord  Rochester?  The  loss  of  her  lover,  and  the 
discovery  that  attended  it,  was  only  wanting  to  com- 
plete the  persecution  that  was  raised  against  her. 


250  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


About  this  time  died  Dongan,*  a  gentleman  of  merit, 
who  was  succeeded  by  Durfort,  afterwards  Earl  of 
Feversham,t  in  the  post  of  lieutenant  of  the  duke's  life 
guards.  Miss  Price  having  tenderly  loved  him,  his 
death  plunged  her  into  a  gulf  of  despair  ;  but  the  in- 
ventory of  his  effects  had  almost  deprived  her  of  her 
senses:  there  was  in  it  a  certain  little  box  sealed  up  on  all 
sides:  it  was  addressed  in  the  deceased's  own  handwrit- 
ing to  Miss  Price  ;  but  instead  of  receiving  it,  she  had  not 
even  the  courage  to  look  upon   it.     The  governess 


*The  only  notice  of  this  person  I  have  anywhere  seen,  is  in  the  fol-  . 
lowing  extract  of  a  letter  from  Sir  Richard  Fanshaw  to  Lord  Arling- 
ton, dated  4th  June,  1664.— "I  ought  not,  in  justice  to  an  honorable 
person,  to  conclude  before  I  acquaint  your  honor,  that  I  have  this  day 
seen  a  letter,  whereby  it  is  certified,  from  my  Lord  Dongan,  (now  at 
Heres,)  that,  if  there  were  any  ship  in  Cadiz  bound  for  Tangier,  he 
would  go  over  in  her,  to  do  His  Majesty  what  service  he  could  in  that 
garrison  ;  which,  he  saith,  he  fears  wants  good  officers  very  much." — 
F'a?isha7a''s  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p.  194. 

t  Louis  de  Duras,  Earl  of  Feversham,  a  native  of  France,  being  son 
of  the  Duke  de  Duras,  and  brother  to  the  last  duke  of  that  name,  as 
also  to  the  Duke  de  Lorge.  His  mother  was  sister  to  the  great  Turenne, 
of  the  princely  house  of  Bouillon.  After  the  restoration  he  came  to 
England,  was  naturalized,  and  behaved  with  great  gallantry  in  the  sea- 
fight  with  the  Dutch,  in  1665.  When  he  first  came  to  England,  he 
bore  the  name  of  Durfort,  and  the  title  of  Marquis  of  Blancfort.  In 
the  24th,  Charles  II.  he  was  created  Baron  Duras  of  Holdenby,  in  the 
county  of  Northampton  ;  and  having  married  Mary,  the  eldest  daughter 
and  co-heir  of  Sir  George  Sondes,  of  Lees  Court,  in  the  county  of 
Kent,  who  had  been  created  Earl  of  Feversham,  the  same  title  was 
limited  to  him,  and  he  succeeded  to  it  on  the  death  of  his  father-in-law. 
Besides  these  honors,  King  Charles  preferred  him  to  the  command  of 
the  third  troop  of  horse  guards,  afterwards  promoted  him  to  the  second, 
and  then  to  the  first.  In  1679,  he  was  made  master  of  the  horse  to 
Queen  Katharine,  and  afterwards  lord-chamberlain  to  Her  Majesty. 
Upon  King  James's  accession  he  was  admitted  into  the  privy  council, 
and  was  commander-in-chief  of  the  forces  sent  against  the  Duke  of 
Monmouth.  After  the  revolution,  he  continued  lord-chamberlain  to 
the  queen-dowager,  and  master  of  the  royal  college  of  St.  Katherine's, 
near  the  Tower.  He  died  April  8th,  1709,  aged  68,  and  was  buried  in 
the  Savoy,  in  the  Strand,  London;  but  removed,  March  21st,  1740,  to 
Westminster  Abbey. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMOXT. 


251 


thought  it  became  her  in  prudence  to  receive  it,  on  Miss 
Price's  refusal,  and  her  duty  to  deliver  it  to  the  duchess 
herself,  supposing  it  was  filled  with  many  curious  and 
precious  commodities,  of  which  perhaps  she  might  make 
some  advantage.  Though  the  duchess  was  not  alto- 
gether of  the  same  opinion,  she  had  the  curiosity  to  see 
what  was  contained  in  a  box  sealed  up  in  a  manner  so 
particularly  careful,  and  therefore  caused  it  to  be  opened 
in  the  presence  of  some  ladies,  who  happened  then  to  be 
in  her  closet. 

All  kinds  of  love  trinkets  were  found  in  it;  and  all 
these  favors,  it  appeared,  came  from  the  tender-hearted 
Miss  Price.  It  was  difficult  to  comprehend  how  a  single 
person  could  have  furnished  so  great  a  collection  ;  for, 
besides  coimting  the  pictures,  there  was  hair  of  all  de- 
scriptions, wrought  into  bracelets,  lockets,  and  into  a 
thousand  other  different  devices,  wonderful  to  see.  After 
these  were  three  or  four  packets  of  letters,  of  so  tender  a 
nature,  and  so  full  of  raptures  and  languors  so  naturally 
expressed,  that  the  duchess  could  not  endure  the  reading 
of  any  more  than  the  two  first. 

Her  Royal  Highness  was  sorry  that  she  had  caused 
the  box  to  be  opened  in  such  good  company  ;  for  being 
before  such  witnesses,  she  rightl)'  judged  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  stifle  this  adventure;  and,  at  the  same  time,  there 
being  no  possibility  of  retaining  any  longer  such  a  maid 
of  honor.  Miss  Price  had  her  valuables  restored  to  her, 
with  orders  to  go  and  finish  her  lamentations,  or  to 
console  herself  for  the  loss  of  her  lover,  in  some  other 
place. 

Miss  Hobart's  character  was  at  that  time  as  uncommon 
in  England,  as  her  person  was  singular,  in  a  country 
where,  to  be  young,  and  not  to  be  in  some  degree  hand- 
some, is  a  reproach;  she  had  a  good  shape,  rather  a  bold 
air,  and  a  great  deal  of  wit,  which  was  well  cultivated, 
without  having  nnich  discretion.  She  was  likewise  pos- 
sessed of  a  great  deal  of  vivacity,  with  an  irregular  fancy; 


252  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


there  was  a  great  deal  of  fire  in  her  eyes,  which,  however, 
produced  no  effect  upon  the  beholders:  and  she  had  a  ten- 
der heart,  whose  sensibility  some  pretended  was  alone 
in  favor  of  the  fair  sex. 

Miss  Bagot  *  was  the  first  that  gained  her  tenderness 
and  affection,  which  she  returned  at  first  with  equal 
warmth  and  sincerity;  but  perceiving  that  all  her  friend- 
ship was  insiifficient  to  repay  that  of  Miss  Hobart,  she 
yielded  the  conquest  to  the  governess's  niece,  who 
thought  herself  as  much  honored  by  it  as  her  aunt 
thought  herself  obliged  by  the  care  she  took  of  the  young 
girl. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  report,  whether  true  or  false, 
of  this  singularity,  spread  through  the  whole  court, 
where  people,  being  yet  so  uncivilized  as  never  to  have 
heard  of  that  kind  of  refinement  in  love  of  ancient  Greece, 
imagined  that  the  illustrious  Hobart,  who  seemed  so  par- 
ticularly attached  to  the  fair  sex,  was  in  reality  some- 
thing more  than  she  appeared  to  be. 

*  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Hervey  Bagot,  second  son  of  Sir  Hervey 
Bagot.  She  married  first  Charles  Berkley,  Earl  of  Falmouth,  and, 
after  his  death,  Charles  Sackville,  who  became  the  first  Duke  of  Dorset. 
From  the  pen  of  a  satirist  much  dependence  is  not  to  be  placed  for  the 
truth  of  facts.  This  lady's  character  is  treated  by  Dryden  and  Mul- 
grave  with  very  little  respect,  in  the  following  lines,  extracted  from 
"  The  Essay  on  Satire  :  " 

"  Thus  Dorset,  purring  like  a  thoughtful  cat. 
Married  ;  but  wiser  puss  ne'er  thought  of  that : 
And  first  he  worried  her  with  railing  rhyme. 
Like  Pembroke's  mastiffs  at  his  kindest  time  ; 
Then  for  one  night  sold  all  his  slavish  life, 
A  teeming  widow,  but  a  barren  wife  ; 
Swell'd  by  contact  of  such  a  fulsome  toad, 
He  lugged  about  the  matrimonial  load  ; 
Till  fortune,  blindly  kind  as  well  as  he, 
Has  ill  restored  him  to  his  liberty ; 
Which  he  would  use  in  his  old  sneaking  way. 
Drinking  all  night,  and  dozing  all  the  day  ; 
Dull  as  Ned  Howard,  whom  his  brisker  times 
Had  famed  for  dulness  in  malicious  rhymes." 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


253 


Satirical  ballads  soon  began  to  compliment  her  npon 
these  new  attributes  ;  and  upon  the  insinuations  that 
were  therein  made,  her  companions  began  to  fear  her. 
The  governess,  alarmed  at  these  reports,  consulted  Lord 
Rochester  upon  the  danger  to  which  her  niece  was  ex- 
posed. She  could  not  have  applied  to  a  fitter  person  : 
he  immediately  advised  her  to  take  her  niece  out  of  the 
hands  of  Miss  Hobart,  and  contrived  matters  so  well  that 
she  fell  into  his  own.  The  duchess,  who  had  too  much 
generosity  not  to  treat  as  visionary  what  was  imputed  to 
Miss  Hobart,  and  too  nmch  justice  to  condemn  her  upon 
the  faith  of  lampoons,  removed  her  from  the  society  of 
the  maids  of  honor,  to  be  an  attendant  upon  her  own 
person. 

Miss  Bagot  was  the  only  one  who  was  really  possessed 
of  virtue  and  beauty  among  these  maids  of  honor  :  she 
had  beautiful  and  regular  features,  and  that  sort  of  brown 
complexion,  which,  when  in  perfection,  is  so  particularly 
fascinating,  and  more  especially  in  England,  where  it  is 
uncommon.  There  was  an  involuntary  blush  almost 
continually  upon  her  cheek,  without  having  anything 
to  blush  for.  Lord  Falmouth  cast  his  eyes  upon  her  : 
his  addresses  were  better  received  than  those  of  Miss 
Hobart,  and  some  time  after  Cupid  raised  her  from  the 
post  of  maid  of  honor  to  the  duchess  to  a  rank  which 
might  have  been  envied  by  all  the  }-oung  ladies  in 
England. 

The  Duchess  of  York,  in  order  to  form  her  new  court, 
resolved  to  see  all  the  young  persons  that  offered  them- 
selves, and,  without  any  regard  to  recommendations,  to 
choose  none  but  the  handsomest. 

At  the  head  of  this  new  assembly  appeared  Miss  Jen- 
nings and  Miss  Temple  ;  and  indeed  they  so  entirely 
eclipsed  the  other  two,  that  we  shall  speak  of  them  only. 

Miss  Jennings,*  adorned  with  all  the  blooming  treas- 


*  This  lady  was  one  of  the  daughters  and  co-heiresses  of  Richard  Jen- 


254 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


iires  of  youth,  had  the  fairest  and  brightest  complexion 
that  ever  was  seen:  her  hair  was  of  a  most  beauteous  flaxen : 
there  was  sometliing  particularly  lively  and  animated 
in  her  countenance,  which  preserved  her  from  that  in- 
sipidity which  is  frequently  an  attendant  on  a  complexion 
so  fair.  Her  mouth  was  not  the  smallest,  but  it  was  the 
handsomest  mouth  in  the  world.  Nature  had  endowed 
her  with  all  those  charms  which  cannot  be  expressed, 
and  the  graces  had  given  the  finishing  stroke  to  them. 
The  turn  of  her  face  was  exquisitely  fine,  and  her  swell- 
ing neck  was  as  fair  and  as  bright  as  her  face.  In  a  word, 
her  person  gave  the  idea  of  Aurora,  or  the  goddess  of  the 
spring,  "such  as  youthful  poets  fancy  when  they  love." 
But  as  it  would  have  been  unjust  that  a  single  person 
should  have  engrossed  all  the  treasures  of  beauty  without 
any  defect,  there  was  something  wanting  in  her  hands 
and  arms  to  render  them  worthy  of  the  rest:  her  nose  was 

nings,  Esq.,  of  Sundridge,  in  the  county  of  Hertford,  and  elder  sister 
to  the  celebrated  Duchess  of  Marlborough.  Her  name  was  Frances. 
She  married  George  Hamilton,  mentioned  in  these  Memoirs  ;  and  after 
his  death,  took  to  her  second  husband,  Richard  Talbot,  already  men- 
tioned, created  Duke  of  Tyrconnel  by  James  II.,  whose  fortunes  he  fol- 
lowed. Lord  Melfort,  secretary  to  that  prince,  appears  to  have  con- 
ceived no  very  favorable  opinion  of  this  lady  ;  for  in  a  letter  to  his 
master,  dated  October,  1689,  he  says,  "there  is  one  other  thing,  if  it 
could  be  effectuated,  were  of  infinite  use ;  which  is  the  getting  the 
Duchess  of  Tyrconnel,  for  her  health,  to  come  into  France.  I  did  not 
know  she  had  been  so  well  known  here  as  she  is  ;  but  the  terms  they 
give  her,  and  which,  for  3'our  service,  I  may  repeat  unto  you,  is,  that 
she  has  {rdmc  la  plus  noire  qui  sc  puisse  concevoir).  I  think  it  would 
help  to  keep  that  peace  so  necessary  for  you,  and  prevent  that  cabal- 
ling humor  which  has  very  ill  effects." — Macp/ierson's  State  Papers, 
vol.  i.  In  1699  she  is  mentioned  in  a  letter  from  the  Earl  of  Man- 
chester to  Lord  Jerse}%  as  one  of  the  needy  Jacobites  of  King  James's 
court,  to  whom  3,000  crowns,  part  of  that  monarch's  pension,  had  been 
distributed. — Coles's  Stale  Papers,  p.  53.  In  1705  she  was  in  England, 
and  had  an  interview  with  her  brother-in-law,  the  Duke  of  Marlbor- 
ough, with  whose  family  she  seems  not  to  have  lived  in  any  terms  of 
cordiality. — ^racp/iersoii,  vol.  i.  In  the  latter  part  of  her  life  she  re- 
sided in  Ireland,  and  died  there,  6tli  March,  1730-1,  at  a  very  advanced 
age. — She  was  buried  in  the  cathedral  of  St.  Patrick's. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


255 


not  the  most  elegant,  and  lier  eyes  gave  some  relief, 
whilst  her  mouth  and  her  other  charms  pierced  the  heart 
with  a  thousand  darts. 

With  this  amiable  person  she  was  full  of  wit  and 
sprightliness,  and  all  her  actions  and  motions  were  un- 
affected and  easy  :  her  conversation  was  bewitching, 
when  she  had  a  mind  to  please  :  piercing  and  delicate 
when  disposed  to  raillery  ;  but  as  her  imagination  was 


MISS  TKMPLE. 


subject  to  flights,  and  as  she  began  to  speak  frequently 
before  she  had  done  thinking,  her  expressions  did  not 
always  conve}-  what  she  wished  ;  sometimes  exceeding, 
and  at  others  falling  short  of  her  ideas. 

IVIiss  Temple,*  nearly  of  the  same  age,  was  brown 


*  Anne,  daughter  of  Thomas  Temple  of  Frankton,  in  the  coiintj-  of 
Warwick  ;  by  Rebecca,  daughter  of  Sir  Nicholas  Carew,  of  Beddington, 
in  Surrey,  knight.  She  afterwards  became  the  second  wife  of  Sir 
Charles  Lj'ttelton,  by  whom  she  had  five  sons,  and  eight  daughters. 


256 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


compared  with  the  other  :  she  had  a  good  shape,  fine 
teeth,  languishing  eyes,  a  fresh  complexion,  an  agree- 
able smile,  and  a  lively  air.  Snch  was  the  ontward 
form  ;  bnt  it  wonld  be  difificnlt  to  describe  the  rest  ;  for 
she  was  simple  and  vain,  crednloiis  and  suspicions,  co- 
quettish and  prudent,  very  self-sufficient  and  very  silly. 

As  soon  as  these  new  stars  appeared  at  the  duchess's 
court,  all  eyes  were  fixed  upon  them,  and  every  one 
formed  some  design  upon  one  or  other  of  them,  some  with 
honorable,  and  others  with  dishonest  intentions.  Miss 
Jennings  soon  distinguished  herself,  and  left  her  com- 
panions no  other  admirers  but  such  as  remained  constant 
from  hopes  of  success  :  her  brilliant  charms  attracted 
at  first  sight,  and  the  charms  of  her  wit  secured  her  con- 
quests. 

The  Duke  of  York  having  persuaded  himself  that  she 
was  part  of  his  property,  resolved  to  pursue  his  claim  by 
the  same  title  whereby  his  brother  had  appropriated  to 
himself  the  favors  of  Miss  Wells  ;  but  he  did  not  find  her 
inclined  to  enter  into  his  service,  though  she  had  engaged 
in  that  of  the  duchess.  She  would  not  pay  any  attention 
to  the  perpetual  ogling  with  which  he  at  first  attacked 
her.  Her  eyes  were  always  wandering  on  other  objects, 
when  those  of  his  Royal  Highness  were  looking  for 
them  ;  and  if  by  chance  he  caught  any  casual  glance, 
she  did  not  even  blush.  This  made  him  resolve  to 
change  his  manner  of  attack  :  ogling  having  proved 
ineffectual,  he  took  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  her  ;  and 
this  was  still  worse.  I  know  not  in  what  strain  he  told 
his  case  ;  but  it  is  certain  the  oratory  of  the  tongue  was 
not  more  prevailing  than  the  eloquence  of  his  eyes. 

Miss  Jennings  had  both  virtue  and  pride,  and  the  pro- 
posals of  the  duke  were  consistent  with  neither  the  one 
nor  the  other.    Although  from  her  great  vivacity  one 

She  was  grandmother  of  the  first  Lord  Lyttelton  ;  and  died  27th  August, 
1718.  Her  husband,  Sir  Charles  Lyttelton,  lived  to  the  advanced  age 
of  86  years  ;  and  died  at  Hagley,  May  2d,  1716. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


257 


might  suppose  tliat  she  was  not  capable  of  much  reflec- 
tion, yet  she  had  furnished  herself  with  some  very  salu- 
tary maxims  for  the  conduct  of  a  young  person  of  her 
age.  The  first  was,  that  a  lad)-  ought  to  be  young  to 
enter  the  court  with  advantage,  and  not  old  to  leave  it 
with  a  good  grace  :  that  she  could  not  maintain  herself 
there  but  by  a  glorious  resistance,  or  by  illustrious 
foibles  :  and  that,  in  so  dangerous  a  situation,  she  ought 
to  use  her  utmost  endeavors  not  to  dispose  of  her  heart 
until  she  gave  her  hand. 

Entertaining  such  sentiments,  she  had  far  less  trouble 
to  resist  the  duke's  temptations,  than  to  disengage  her- 
self from  his  perseverance  :  she  was  deaf  to  all  treaties 
for  a  settlement,  with  which  her  ambition  was  sounded  : 
and  all  offers  of  presents  succeeded  still  worse.  What 
was  then  to  be  done  to  conquer  an  extravagant  virtue 
that  would  not  hearken  to  reason  ?  He  was  ashamed  to 
suffer  a  giddy  young  girl  to  escape,  whose  inclinations 
ought  in  some  manner  to  correspond  with  the  vivacity 
that  shone  forth  in  all  her  actions,  and  who  nevertheless 
thought  proper  to  be  serious  when  no  such  thing  as 
seriousness  was  required  of  her. 

After  he  had  attentively  considered  her  obstinate  be- 
havior, he  thought  that  writing  might  perhaps  succeed, 
though  ogling,  speeches,  and  embassies  had  failed. 
Paper  receives  everything,  but  it  unfortunately  happened 
that  she  would  not  receive  the  paper.  Every  day  billets, 
containing  the  tenderest  expressions,  and  most  magnifi- 
cent promises,  were  slipped  into  her  pockets,  or  into  her 
muff :  this,  however,  could  not  be  done  unperceived  ; 
and  the  malicious  little  gipsy  took  care  that  those  who 
saw  them  slip  in  should  likewise  see  them  fall  out,  un- 
perused  and  imopened  ;  she  only  shook  her  muff",  or 
pulled  out  her  handkerchief ;  as  soon  as  ever  his  back 
was  turned,  his  billets  fell  about  her  like  hailstones,  and 
whoever  pleased  might  take  them  up.  The  duchess  was 
frequently  a  witness  of  this  conduct,  but  could  not  find 

17 


258 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


in  her  heart  to  chide  her  for  her  want  of  respect  to  the 
duke.  After  this,  the  charms  and  prudence  of  Miss 
Jennings  were  the  only  subjects  of  conversation  in  the 
two  courts  :  the  courtiers  could  not  comprehend  how  a 
young  creature,  brought  directly  from  the  country  to 
court,  should  so  soon  become  its  ornament  by  her  attrac- 
tions, and  its  example  by  her  conduct. 

The  king  was  of  opinion  that  those  who  had  attacked 
her  had  ill-concerted  their  measures ;  for  he  thought  it 
unnatural  that  she  should  neither  be  tempted  by  prom- 
ises, nor  gained  by  importunity  :  she,  especiall)',  who  in 
all  probability  had  not  imbibed  such  severe  precepts 
from  the  prudence  of  her  mother,  who  had  never  tasted 
anything  more  delicious  than  the  plums  and  apricots  of 
Saint  Albans.*  Being  resolved  to  try  her  himself,  he 
was  particularly  pleased  with  the  great  novelty  that  ap- 
peared in  the  turn  of  her  wit,  and  in  the  charms  of  her 
person  ;  and  curiosity,  which  at  first  induced  him  to 
make  the  trial,  was  soon  changed  into  a  desire  of  suc- 
ceeding in  the  experiment.  God  knows  what  might 
have  been  the  consequence,  for  he  greatly  excelled  in 
wit,  and  besides  he  was  king  :  two  qualities  of  no  small 
consideration.  The  resolutions  of  the  fair  Jennings  were 
commendable,  and  very  judicious  ;  but  yet  she  was  won- 
derfully pleased  with  wit ;  and  royal  majesty  prostrate 
at  the  feet  of  a  young  person,  is  very  persuasive.  Miss 
Stewart,  however,  would  not  consent  to  the  king's  pro- 
ject. 

She  immediately  took  the  alarm,  and  desired  His 
Majesty  to  leave  to  the  duke,  his  brother,  the  care  of 
tutoring  the  duchess's  maids  of  honor,  and  only  to  attend 
to  the  management  of  his  own  flock,  unless  His  Majesty 
would  in  return  allow  her  to  listen  to  certain  proposals 
of  a  settlement  which  she  did  not  think  disadvantageous. 


*  This  town  is  in  the  neighborhood  of  Sundridge,  where  Miss  Jen- 
nings's family  resided. 


MKMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


259 


This  menace  bein.^^of  a  serious  nature,  the  king  obeyed  ; 
and  ISIiss  Jennings  had  all  the  additional  honor  which 
arose  from  this  adventnre  :  it  both  added  to  her  reputa- 
tion, and  increased  the  number  of  her  admirers.  Thus 
she  continued  to  triumph  over  the  liberties  of  others 
without  ever  losing  her  own  :  her  hour  was  not  yet 
come,  but  it  was  not  far  distant;  the  particulars  of  which 
we  shall  relate  as  soon  as  we  have  given  some  account 
of  the  conduct  of  her  companion. 

Though  ]\Iiss  Temple's  person  was  particularly  engag- 
ing, it  was  nevertheless  eclipsed  by  that  of  Miss  Jen- 
nings ;  but  she  was  still  more  excelled  by  the  other's 
superior  mental  accomplishments.  Two  persons,  very 
capable  to  impart  understanding,  had  the  gift  been  com- 
municable, undertook  at  the  same  time  to  rob  her  of  the 
little  she  really  possessed  :  these  were  Lord  Rochester 
and  Miss  Hobart :  the  first  began  to  mislead  her  by  read- 
ing to  her  all  his  compositions,  as  if  she  alone  had  been 
a  proper  judge  of  them.  He  never  thought  proper  to 
flatter  her  upon  her  personal  accomplishments  ;  hnt  told 
her  that  if  heaven  had  made  him  susceptible  of  the  im- 
pressions of  beauty,  it  would  not  have  been  possible  for 
him  to  have  escaped  her  chains  ;  but  not  being,  thank 
God,  affected  with  anything  but  wit,  he  had  the  happi- 
ness of  enjoying  the  most  agreeable  conversation  in  the 
world  without  running  any  risk.  After  so  sincere  a  con- 
fession, he  either  presented  to  her  a  copy  of  verses,  or  a 
new  song,  in  which  whoever  dared  to  come  in  competi- 
tion in  any  respect  with  INIiss  Temple  was  laid  prostrate 
before  her  charms,  most  humbly  to  solicit  pardon  :  such 
flattering  insinuations  so  completely  turned  her  head 
that  it  was  a  pity  to  see  her. 

The  duchess  took  notice  of  it,  and  well  knowing  the 
extent  of  both  their  geniuses,  she  saw  the  precipice  into 
which  the  poor  girl  was  running  headlong  without  per- 
ceiving it  :  but  as  it  is  no  less  dangerous  to  forbid  a  con- 
nection that  is  not  yet  thought  of,  than  it  is  difficult  to 


260 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


put  an  end  to  one  that  is  already  well  established,  Miss 
Hobart  was  charged  to  take  care,  with  all  possible  dis- 
cretion, that  these  frequent  and  long  conversations  might 
not  be  attended  with  any  dangerous  consequences  :  with 
pleasure  she  accepted  the  commission,  and  greatly  flat- 
tered herself  with  success. 

She  had  already  made  all  necessary  advances  to  gain 
possession  of  her  confidence  and  friendship  ;  and  IMiss 
Temple,  less  suspicious  of  her  than  of  Lord  Rochester, 
made  all  imaginable  returns.  She  was  greedy  of  praise, 
and  loved  all  manner  of  sweetmeats,  as  much  as  a  child 
of  nine  or  ten  years  old  :  her  taste  was  gratified  in  both 
these  respects.  Miss  Hobart  having  the  superintendence 
of  the  duchess's  baths,  her  apartment  joined  them,  in 
which  there  was  a  closet  stored  with  all  sorts  of  sweet- 
meats and  liqueurs  :  the  closet  suited  Miss  Temple's 
taste,  as  exactly  as  it  gratified  Miss  Hobart' s  inclination, 
to  have  something  that  could  allure  her. 

Summer,  being  now  returned,  brought  back  with  it 
the  pleasures  and  diversions  that  are  its  inseparable  at- 
tendants. One  day  when  the  ladies  had  been  taking  the 
air  on  horseback.  Miss  Temple,  on  her  return  from  riding, 
alighted  at  Miss  Hobart's,  in  order  to  recover  her  fatigue 
at  the  expense  of  the  sweetmeats,  which  she  knew  were 
there  at  her  service  ;  but  before  she  began  she  desired 
Miss  Hobart's  permission  to  undress  herself  and  change 
her  linen  in  her  apartment;  which  request  was  immedi- 
ately complied  with:  "  I  was  just  going  to  propose  it  to 
you,"  said  Miss  Hobart,  "  not  but  that  you  are  as  charm- 
ing as  an  angel  in  your  riding  habit,  but  there  is  nothing 
so  comfortable  as  a  loose  dress,  and  being  at  one's  ease  : 
you  cannot  imagine,  my  dear  Temple,"  continued  she, 
embracing  her,  "  how  much  you  oblige  me  by  this  free, 
*  unceremonious  conduct;  but,  above  all,  I  am  enchanted 
with  yom  particular  attention  to  cleanliness:  how  greatly 
you  differ  in  this,  as  in  many  other  things,  from  that  silly 
creature,  Jennings  !    Have  you  remarked  how  all  our 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


261 


court  fops  admire  her  for  her  brilliant  complexion,  which 
perhaps,  after  all,  is  not  wholly  her  own  ;  and  for  blun- 
ders, which  are  truly  original,  and  which  they  are  such 
fools  as  to  mistake  for  wit:  I  have  not  conversed  with  her 
long  enough  to  perceive  in  what  her  wit  consists;  but  of 
this  I  am  certain,  that  if  it  is  not  better  than  her  feet,  it 
is  no  great  matter.  What  stories  have  I  heard  of  her 
sluttishness  !  No  cat  ever  dreaded  water  so  much  as  she 
does:  fie  upon  her  !  Never  to  wash  for  her  own  comfort, 
and  only  to  attend  to  those  parts  which  must  necessarily 
be  seen,  such  as  the  neck  and  hands." 

Miss  Temple  swallowed  all  this  with  even  greater 
pleasure  than  the  sweetmeats;  and  the  officious  Hobart, 
not  to  lose  time,  was  helping  her  oflF  with  her  clothes, 
while  the  chambermaid  was  coming.  vShe  made  some 
objections  to  this  at  first,  being  unwilling  to  occasion 
that  trouble  to  a  person,  who,  like  Miss  Hobart,  had 
been  advanced  to  a  place  of  dignity  ;  but  she  was  over- 
ruled by  her,  and  assured  that  it  was  with  the  greatest 
pleasure  .she  showed  her  that  small  mark  of  civility. 
The  collation  being  finished,  and  Miss  Temple  undressed: 
"Let  us  retire,"  said  Miss  Hobart,  "to  the  bathing- 
closet,  where  we  may  enjoy  a  little  conversation  secure 
from  any  impertinent  visit."  Miss  Temple  consented, 
and  both  of  them  sitting  down  on  a  couch:  "You  are  too 
young,  my  dear  Temple,"  .said  she,  "  to  know  the  baseness 
of  men  in  general,  and  too  short  a  time  acquainted  with 
the  court  to  know  the  character  of  its  inhabitants.  I  will 
give  you  a  short  sketch  of  the  principal  persons,  to  the 
best  of  my  knowledge,  without  injury  to  any  one,  for  I 
abominate  the  trade  of  scandal. 

"  In  the  first  place,  then,  you  ought  to  .set  it  down  as 
an  undoubted  fact  that  all  courtiers  are  deficient  either 
in  honesty,  good  .sense,  judgment,  wit,  or  sincerity;  that 
is  to  say,  if  any  of  them  b}'  chance  po.ssess  some  one  of 
these  qualities,  you  may  depend  upon  it  he  is  defective 
in  the  rest  :  sumptuous  in  their  equipages,  deep  play,  a 


262 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


great  opinion  of  their  own  merit,  and  contempt  of  that 
of  others,  are  their  chief  characteristics. 

"Interest  or  pleasure  are  the  motives  of  all  their  ac- 
tions: those  who  are  led  by  the  first  would  sell  God  Al- 
mighty, as  Jndas  sold  his  Master,  and  that  for  less  money. 
I  conld  relate  you  a  thousand  notable  instances  of  this,  if 
I  had  time.  As  for  the  sectaries  of  pleasure,  or  those  who 
pretend  to  be  such,  for  they  are  not  all  so  bad  as  they  en- 
deavor to  make  themselves  appear,  these  gentlemen  pay 
no  manner  of  regard  either  to  promises,  oaths,  law,  or 
religion;  that  is  to  say,  they  are  literally  no  respecters  of 
persons;  they  care  neither  for  God  nor  man,  if  they  can 
but  gain  their  ends.  They  look  upon  maids  of  honor  only 
as  amusements,  placed  expressly  at  court  for  their  enter- 
tainment; and  the  more  merit  any  one  has,  the  more  she 
is  exposed  to  their  impertinence,  if  she  gives  any  ear  to 
them;  and  to  their  malicious  calumnies,  when  she  ceases 
to  attend  to  them.  As  for  husbands,  this  is  not  the  place 
to  find  them  ;  for  unless  money  or  caprice  make  up  the 
match,  there  is  but  little  hopes  of  being  married:  virtue 
and  beauty  in  this  respect  here  are  equally  useless. 
Lady  Falmouth  is  the  only  instance  of  a  maid  of  honor 
well  married  without  a  portion;  and  if  you  were  to  ask 
her  poor  weak  husband  for  what  reason  he  married  her, 
I  ana  persuaded  that  he  can  assign  none,  unless  it  be  her 
great  red  ears  and  broad  feet.  As  for  the  pale  Lady 
Yarborough,  who  appeared  so  proud  of  her  match,  she  is 
wife,  to  be  sure,  of  a  great  country  bumpkin,  who,  the 
very  week  after  their  marriage,  bid  her  take  her  farewell 
of  the  town  forever,  in  consequence  of  five  or  six  thou- 
sand pounds  a  year  he  enjoys  on  the  borders  of  Cornwall. 
Alas  !  poor  Miss  Blague  !  I  saw  her  go  away  about  this 
time  twelvemonth,  in  a  coach  with  four  such  lean  horses, 
that  I  cannot  believe  she  is  yet  half  way  to  her  miserable 
little  castle.  What  can  be  the  matter  !  all  the  girls  seem 
afflicted  with  the  rage  of  wedlock,  and  however  small 
their  portion  of  charms  may  be,  they  think  it  only  nec- 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


263 


essary  to  show  themselves  at  court  in  order  to  pick  and 
choose  their  men  :  but  was  this  in  reality  the  case,  the 
being  a  wife  is  the  most  wretched  condition  imaginable 
for  a  person  of  nice  sentiments.  Believe  me,  my  dear 
Temple,  the  pleasures  of  matrimony  are  so  inconsiderable 
in  comparison  with  its  inconveniences,  that  I  cannot 
imagine  how  any  reasonable  creature  can  resolve  upon 
it:  rather  fly,  therefore,  from  this  irksome  engagement 
than  court  it.  Jealousy,  formerly  a  stranger  to  these 
happy  isles,  is  now  coming  into  fashion,  with  many  re- 
cent examples  of  which  you  are  acquainted.  However 
brilliant  the  phantom  may  appear,  suffer  not  yourself  to 
be  caught  by  its  splendor,  and  never  be  so  weak  as  to 
transform  your  slave  into  your  tyrant  :  as  long  as  you 
preserve  your  own  liberty,  you  will  be  mistress  of  that  of 
others.  I  will  relate  to  you  a  very  recent  proof  of  the 
perfidy  of  man  to  our  sex,  and  of  the  impunity  they  ex- 
perience in  all  attempts  upon  our  innocence.  The  Earl 
of  Oxford  *  fell  in  love  with  a  handsome,  graceful  actress 
belonging  to  the  duke's  theatre,  who  performed  to  per- 
fection, particularly  the  part  of  Roxana,  in  a  very  fash- 

*  This  was  Aubrey  de  Vere,  the  last  Earl  of  Oxford  of  that  name, 
and  the  twentieth  and  last  earl  of  that  family.  He  was  chief  justice  in 
eyre;  and  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  lord  of  the  bed-chamber,  privy 
councillor,  colonel  of  the  royal  regiment  of  horse  guards,  and  lord- 
lieutenant  of  the  county  of  Essex  ;  atid  lieutenant-general  of  the  forces 
in  the  reig:i  of  William  III.,  and  also  knight  of  the  garter.  He  died 
March  12,  1702,  aged  80  years  and  upwards,  and  was  buried  in  West- 
minster Abbey.  The  author  of  a  Historv-  of  the  English  Stage,  published 
by  Curl,  1741,  8vo.,  says,  that  Mrs.  Marshall,  a  celebrated  actress,  more 
known  by  the  name  of  Roxana,  from  acting  that  part,  was  the  person 
deceived  by  the  FCarl  of  O.xford  in  this  manner.  The  particulars  of  the 
story,  as  there  related,  do  not  materially  vary  from  the  present  account 
of  the  transaction.  A  more  detailed  narrative  of  this  seduction  is 
given  in  Madame  Dunois's  Memoirs  of  the  Court  of  England,  part  ii., 
p.  71.  Mrs.  Marshall,  who  was  the  original  Roxana  in  Lee's  Rival 
Queens,  belonged  not  to  the  duke's,  but  the  king's  theatre.  Lord 
Orford,  I  know  not  on  what  authority,  has  given  the  name  of  Mrs.  Bar- 
ker to  this  lady  ;  a  name  totally  unknown,  I  believe,  in  the  annals  of 
the  stage. 


264 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


ionable  new  play,  insomuch  that  she  ever  after  retained 
that  name  :  this  creature  being  both  very  virtuous  and 
very  modest,  or  if  you  please,  wonderfully  obstinate, 
proudly  rejected  the  addresses  and  presents  of  the  Earl 
of  Oxford.  This  resistance  inflamed  his  passion:  he  had 
recourse  to  invectives,  and  even  to  spells;  hnt  all  in  vain. 
This  disappointment  had  such  an  effect  upon  him  that 
he  could  neither  eat  nor  drink  ;  this  did  not  signify  to 
him;  but  his  passion  at  length  became  so  violent,  that  he 
could  neither  play  nor  smoke.  In  this  extremity  love 
had  recourse  to  Hymen  ;  the  Earl  of  Oxford,  one  of  the 
first  peers  of  the  realm,  is,  you  know,  a  very  handsome 
man:  he  is  of  the  order  of  the  garter,  which  greatly  adds 
to  an  air  naturally  noble.  In  short,  from  his  outward 
appearance,  you  would  suppose  he  was  really  possessed 
of  some  sense  ;  but  as  soon  as  ever  you  hear  him  speak, 
you  are  perfectly  convinced  of  the  contrary.  This  pas- 
sionate lover  presented  her  with  a  promise  of  marriage, 
in  due  form,  signed  with  his  own  hand:  she  would  not, 
however,  rely  upon  this,  but  the  next  day  she  thought 
there  could  be  no  danger,  when  the  earl  himself  came 
to  her  lodgings  attended  by  a  clergyman,  and  another 
man  for  a  witness  :  the  marriage  was  accordingly  solem- 
nized with  all  due  ceremonies,  in  the  presence  of  one  of 
her  fellow-players,  who  attended  as  a  witness  on  her 
part.  You  will  suppose,  perhaps,  that  the  new  countess 
had  nothing  to  do  but  to  appear  at  court  according  to 
her  rank,  and  to  display  the  earl's  arms  upon  her  carriage. 
This  was  far  from  being  the  case.  When  examination 
was  made  concerning  the  marriage,  it  was  found  to  be  a 
mere  deception  ;  it  appeared  that  the  pretended  priest 
was  one  of  my  lord's  trumpeters,  and  the  witness  his 
kettle-drummer.  The  parson  and  his  companion  never 
appeared  after  the  ceremony  was  over;  and  as  for  the 
other  witness,  they  endeavored  to  persuade  her,  that  the 
Sultana  Roxana  might  have  supposed,  in  some  part  or 
other  of  a  play,  that  she  was  really  married.    It  was  all 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


265 


to  no  purpose,  that  the  poor  creature  claimed  the  protec- 
tion of  the  laws  of  God  and  man,  both  which  were  vio- 
lated and  abused,  as  well  as  herself,  by  this  infamous 
imposition  ;  in  vain  did  she  throw  herself  at  the  king's 
feet  to  demand  justice:  she  had  only  to  rise  up  again 
without  redress ;  and  happy  might  she  think  herself  to 
receive  an  annuity  of  one  thousand  crowns,  and  to  resume 
the  name  of  Roxana,  instead  of  Countess  of  Oxford. 
You  will  sa}-,  perhaps,  that  she  was  only  a  player  ;  that 
all  men  have  not  the  same  sentiments  as  the  earl  ;  and, 
that  one  may  at  least  believe  them,  when  they  do  but 
render  justice  to  such  merit  as  yours.  But  still  do  not 
believe  them,  though  I  know  }  ou  are  liable  to  it,  as  you 
have  admirers;  for  all  are  not  infatuated  with  Miss  Jen- 
nings: the  handsome  Sidney  ogles  you  ;  Lord  Rochester 
is  delighted  with  your  conversation;  and  the  most  serious 

Sir  Lyttelton  forsakes  his  natural  gravity  in  favor 

of  your  charms.  As  for  the  first,  I  confess  his  figure  is 
very  likely  to  engage  the  inclinations  of  a  young  person 
like  yourself ;  but  were  his  outward  form  attended  with 
other  accomplishments,  which  I  know  it  is  not,  and  that 
his  sentiments  in  }-our  favor  were  as  real  as  he  endeavors 
to  persuade  you  they  are,  and  as  you  deserve,  yet  I 
would  not  advise  you  to  form  any  connections  with  him, 
for  reasons  which  I  cannot  tell  you  at  present. 

"Sir  Lyttelton  *  is  undoubtedly  in  earnest,  since 

he  appears  ashamed  of  the  condition  to  which  you  have 
reduced  him  ;  and  I  really  believe  if  he  could  get  the 
better  of  those  vulgar  chimerical  apprehensions,  of  being 
what  is  vulgarly  called  a  cuckold,  the  good  man  would 
marry  you,  and  you  would  be  his  representative  in  his 
little  government,  where  you  might  merrily  pass  )'our 
days  in  casting  up  the  weekly  bills  of  housekeeping  and 
in  darning  old  napkins.  What  a  glory  would  it  be  to 
have  a  Cato  for  a  husband,  whose  speeches  are  as  many 


*  Sir  Charles  Lytteltou  :  of  whom  see  note  on  p.  255. 


266 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


lectures,  and  whose  lectures  are  composed  of  nothing  but 
ill-nature  and  censure  ! 

"  Lord  Rochester  is,  without  contradiction,  the  most 
witty  man  in  all  England  ;  but  then  he  is  likewise  the 
most  unprincipled,  and  devoid  even  of  the  least  tincture 
of  honor  ;  he  is  dangerous  to  our  sex  alone  ;  and  that  to 
such  a  degree  that  there  is  not  a  woman  who  gives  ear 
to  him  three  times  but  she  irretrievably  loses  her  reputa- 
tion. No  woman  can  escape  him,  for  he  has  her  in  his 
writings,  thovigh  his  other  attacks  be  ineffectual ;  and  in 
the  age  we  live  in,  the  one  is  as  bad  as  the  other  in  the 
eye  of  the  public.  In  the  meantime  nothing  is  more 
dangerous  than  the  artful,  insinuating  manner  with 
which  he  gains  possession  of  the  mind:  he  applauds  your 
taste,  submits  to  your  sentiments,  and  at  the  very  instant 
that  he  himself  does  not  believe  a  single  word  of  what 
he  is  saying,  he  makes  you  believe  it  all.  I  dare  lay  a 
wager,  that  from  the  conversation  you 'have  had  with 
him,  you  thought  him  one  of  the  most  honorable  and 
sincerest  men  living;  for  my  part  I  cannot  imagine  what 
he  means  by  the  assiduity  he  pays  you  :  not  but  your 
accomplishments  are  sufficient  to  excite  the  adoration 
and  praise  of  the  whole  world  ;  but  had  he  even  been  so 
fortunate  as  to  have  gained  your  affections,  he  would  not 
know  what  to  do  with  the  loveliest  creature  at  court:  for 
it  is  a  long  time  since  his  debauches  have  brought  him 
to  order,  with  the  assistance  of  the  favors  of  all  the  com- 
mon street-walkers.  See  then,  my  dear  Temple,  what 
horrid  malice  possesses  him,  to  the  ruin  and  confusiou 
of  innocence  !  A  wretch  !  to  have  no  other  design  in  his 
addresses  and  assiduities  to  Miss  Temple,  but  to  give  a 
greater  air  of  probability  to  the  calumnies  with  which 
he  has  loaded  her.  You  look  upon  me  with  astonish- 
ment, and  seem  to  doubt  the  truth  of  what  I  advance  ; 
but  I  do  not  desire  you  to  believe  me  without  evidence  : 
Here,"  said  she,  drawing  a  paper  out  of  her  pocket,  "see 
what  a  copy  of  verses  he  has  made  in  your  praise,  while 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


267 


he  hills  your  credulity  to  rest,  by  flattering  speeches  and 
feigned  respect." 

After  saj  iug  this,  the  perfidious  Hobart  showed  her 
half-a-dozen  couplets  full  of  strained  invective  and  scan- 
dal, which  Rochester  had  made  against  the  former  maids 
of  honor.  This  severe  and  cutting  lampoon  was  prin- 
cipally levelled  against  Miss  Price,  whose  person  he 
took  to  pieces  in  the  most  frightful  and  hideous  manner 
imaginable.  Miss  Hobart  had  substituted  the  name  of 
Temple  instead  of  Price,  which  she  made  to  agree  both 
with  the  measure  and  tune  of  the  song.  This  effectually 
answered  Hobart' s  intentions  :  the  credulous  Temple  no 
sooner  heard  her  sing  the  lampoon,  but  she  firmly  be- 
lieved it  to  be  made  upon  herself ;  and  in  the  first  trans- 
ports of  her  rage,  having  nothing  so  much  at  heart  as  to 
give  the  lie  to  the  fictions  of  the  poet :  "Ah  !  as  for  this, 
my  dear  Hobart,"  said  she,  "  I  can  bear  it  no  longer  :  I 
do  not  pretend  to  be  so  handsome  as  some  others  ;  but 
as  for  the  defects  that  villain  charges  me  with,  I  dare 
say,  my  dear  Hobart,  there  is  no  woman  more  free  from 
them  :  we  are  alone,  and  I  am  almost  inclined  to  con- 
vince you  by  ocular  demonstration."  Miss  Hobart  was 
too  complaisant  to  oppose  this  motion  ;  but,  although 
she  soothed  her  mind  by  extolling  all  her  beauties,  in 
opposition  to  Lord  Rochester's  song,  JNIiss  Temple  was 
almost  driven  to  distraction  by  rage  and  astonishment, 
that  the  first  man  .she  ever  attended  to  should,  in  his 
conversation  with  her,  not  even  make  use  of  a  single 
word  of  truth,  but  that  he  should  likewise  have  the  un- 
paralleled cruelty  falsely  to  accuse  her  of  defects  ;  and 
not  being  able  to  find  w^ords  capable  of  expressing  her 
anger  and  resentment,  she  began  to  weep  like  a  child. 

Miss  Hobart  used  all  her  endeavors  to  comfort  her, 
and  chid  her  for  being  so  much  hurt  with  the  invectives 
of  a  person  whose  scandalous  impostures  were  too  well 
known  to  make  any  impression  :  she,  however,  advised 
her  never  to  speak  to  him  any  more,  for  that  was  the 


268 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


only  method  to  disappoint  his  designs  ;  that  contempt 
and  silence  were,  on  such  occasions,  much  preferable  to 
any  explanation,  and  that  if  he  could  once  obtain  a  hear- 
ing, he  would  be  justified,  but  she  would  be  ruined. 

Miss  Hobart  was  not  wrong  in  giving  her  this  counsel: 
she  knew  that  an  explanation  would  betray  her,  and  that 
there  would  be  no  quarter  for  her  if  Lord  Rochester  had 
so  fair  an  opportunit)'  of  renewing  his  former  panegyrics 
upon  her;  but  her  precaution  was  in  vain:  this  conversa- 
tion had  been  heard  from  one  end  to  the  other  by  the 
governess's  niece,  who  was  blessed  with  a  most  faithful 
memory;  and  having  that  very  day  an  appointment  with 
Lord  Rochester,  she  conned  it  over  three  or  four  times, 
that  she  might  not  forget  one  single  word,  when  she 
should  have  the  honor  of  relating  it  to  her  lo^•er.  We 
shall  show  in  the  next  chapter  what  were  the  conse- 
quences resulting  from  it. 


M.\R\'   KIRK    (MISS  WAKMI.STRH). 


CHAPTER  X. 


The  conversation  before  related  was  agreeable  only 
to  IMiss  Hobart;  for  if  IMiss  Temple  was  entertained  with 
its  commencement,  she  was  so  much  the  more  irritated 
b}'  its  conclusion  :  this  indignation  was  succeeded  by  the 
curiosity  of  knowing  the  reason  why,  if  Sidney  had  a 
real  esteem  for  her,  she  should  not  be  allowed  to  pay 
some  attention  to  him.  The  tender-hearted  Hobart,  un- 
able to  refuse  her  any  request,  promised  her  this  piece 
of  confidence,  as  soon  as  she  should  be  secure  of  her 
conduct  towards  Lord  Rochester  :  for  this  she  only  de- 
sired a  trial  of  her  sincerity  for  three  days,  after  which 
she  assured  her  she  would  acquaint  her  with  ever)'thing 
she  wished  to  know.  IMiss  Temple  protested  she  no 
longer  regarded  Lord  Rochester  but  as  a  monster  of  per- 
fidiousness,  and  vowed,  by  all  that  was  sacred,  that  she 
would  never  listen  to  him,  much  less  speak  to  him,  as 
long  as  she  lived. 

As  soon  as  they  retired  from  the  closet.  Miss  Sarah 
came  out  of  the  bath,  where,  during  all  this  conversa- 
tion, she  had  been  almost  perished  with  cold,  without 
daring  to  complain.  This  little  gipsy  had,  it  seems, 
obtained  leave  of  Miss  Hobart's  woman  to  bathe  herself 
unknown  to  her  mistress  ;  and  having,  I  know  not  how, 

(269) 


270 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


found  means  to  fill  one  of  the  baths  with  cold  water, 
Miss  Sarah  had  just  got  into  it,  when  they  were  both 
alarmed  with  the  arrival  of  the  other  two.  A  glass  par- 
tition enclosed  the  room  where  the  baths  were,  and  In- 
dian silk  curtains,  which  drew  on  the  inside,  screened 
those  that  were  bathing.  Miss  Hobart's  chamber-maid 
had  only  just  time  to  draw  these  curtains,  that  the  girl 
might  not  be  seen  to  lock  the  partition  door,  and  to 
take  away  the  key,  before  her  mistress  and  Miss  Temple 
came  in. 

These  two  sat  down  on  a  couch  placed  along  the  par- 
tition, and  ]\Iiss  Sarah,  notwithstanding  her  alarms,  had 
distinctly  heard,  and  perfectly  retained  the  whole  con- 
versation. As  the  little  girl  was  at  all  this  trouble  to 
make  herself  clean,  only  on  Lord  Rochester's  account, 
as  soon  as  ever  she  could  make  her  escape  she  regained 
her  garret  ;  where  Rochester,  having  repaired  thither  at 
the  appointed  hour,  was  fully  informed  of  all  that  had 
passed  in  the  bathing-room.  He  was  astonished  at  the 
audacious  temerity  of  Hobart  in  daring  to  put  such  a 
trick  upon  him  ;  but,  though  he  rightly  judged  that  love 
and  jealousy  were  the  real  motives,  he  would  not  excuse 
her.  lyittle  Sarah  desired  to  know  whether  he  had  a 
real  affection  for  Miss  Temple,  as  Miss  Hobart  said  she 
supposed  that  was  the  case.  "Can  you  doubt  it,"  replied 
he,  "since  that  oracle  of  sincerity  has  affirmed  it?  But 
then  you  know  that  I  am  not  now  capable  of  profiting 
by  my  perfidy,  were  I  even  to  gain  Miss  Temple's  com- 
pliance, since  my  debauches  and  the  street-walkers  have 
brought  me  to  order." 

This  answer  made  Miss  Sarah  very  easy,  for  she  con- 
cluded that  the  first  article  was  not  true,  since  she  knew 
from  experieuce  that  the  latter  was  false.  Lord  Roches- 
ter was  resolved  that  very  evening  to  attend  the  duchess's 
court,  to  see  what  reception  he  would  meet  with  after 
the  fine  portrait  Miss  Hobart  had  been  so  kind  as  to  draw 
of  him.    Miss  Temple  did  not  fail  to  be  there  likewise, 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


271 


with  the  intention  of  looking  on  him  with  the  most  con- 
temptuous disdain  possible,  though  she  had  taken  care 
to  dress  herself  as  well  as  she  could.  As  she  supposed 
that  the  lampoon  INIiss  Hobart  had  sung  to  her  was  in 
everybody's  possession,  she  was  under  great  embarrass- 
ment lest  all  those  whom  she  met  should  think  her  such 
a  monster  as  Lord  Rochester  had  described  her.  In  the 
meantime,  Miss  Hobart,  who  had  not  much  confidence 
in  her  promises  never  more  to  speak  to  him,  narrowly 
watched  her.  Miss  Temple  never  in  her  life  appeared  so 
handsome  :  every  person  complimented  her  upon  it ;  but 
she  received  all  the  civilities  with  such  an  air,  that  every 
one  thought  she  was  mad  ;  for  when  they  commended 
her  shape,  her  fresh  complexion,  and  the  brilliancy  of 
her  eyes  :  "  Pshaw  !  "  said  she,  "it  is  very  well  known 
that  I  am  but  a  monster,  and  fonned  in  no  respect  like 
other  women  :  all  is  not  gold  that  glisters  :  and  though 
I  may  receive  some  compliments  in  public,  it  signifies 
nothing."  All  Miss  Hobart's  endeavors  to  stop  her 
tongue  were  ineffectual  ;  and  continuing  to  rail  at  her- 
self ironically,  the  whole  court  was  puzzled  to  compre- 
hend her  meaning. 

When  Lord  Rochester  came  in,  she  first  blushed,  then 
turned  pale,  made  a  motion  to  go  towards  him,  drew 
back  again,  pulled  her  gloves  one  after  the  other  up  to 
the  elbow  ;  and  after  having  three  times  violently  flirted 
her  fan,  she  waited  until  he  paid  his  compliments  to  her 
as  usual,  and  as  soon  as  he  began  to  bow,  the  fair  one 
immediately  turned  her  back  upon  him.  Rochester  only 
smiled,  and  being  resolved  that  her  resentment  should 
be  still  more  remarked,  he  turned  round  and  posting 
himself  face  to  face  :  "  Madam,"  said  he,  "nothing  can 
be  so  glorious  as  to  look  so  charming  as  you  do,  after 
such  a  fatiguing  day  :  to  support  a  ride  of  three  long 
hours,  and  Miss  Hobart  afterwards,  without  being  tired, 
shows  indeed  a  very  strong  constitution." 

Miss  Temple  had  naturally  a  tender  look,  but  she  was 


272 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


transported  with  such  a  violent  passion  at  his  having 
the  audacity  to  speak  to  her,  that  her  eyes  appeared  like 
two  fireballs  when  she  turned  them  upon  hini.  Hobart 
pinched  her  arm,  as  she  perceived  that  this  look  was 
likely  to  be  followed  by  a  torrent  of  reproaches  and  in- 
vectives. 

lyord  Rochester  did  not  wait  for  them,  and  delaying 
until  another  opportunity  the  acknowledgments  he  owed 
Miss  Hobart,  he  quietly  retired.  The  latter,  who  could 
not  imagine  that  he  knew  anything  of  their  conversation 
at  the  bath,  was,  however,  much  alarmed  at  what  he  had 
said  ;  but  Miss  Temple,  almost  choked  with  the  re- 
proaches with  which  she  thought  herself  able  to  confound 
him  and  which  she  had  not  time  to  give  vent  to,  vowed 
to  ease  her  mind  of  them  upon  the  first  opportunity,  not- 
withstanding the  promise  she  had  made  ;  but  never  more 
to  speak  to  him  afterwards. 

Lord  Rochester  had  a  faithful  spy  near  these  nymphs : 
this  was  Miss  Sarah,  who,  by  his  advice,  and  with  her 
aunt's  consent,  was  reconciled  with  Miss  Hobart,  the 
more  effectually  to  betray  her  :  he  was  informed  by  this 
spy,  that  Miss  Hobart's  maid,  being  suspected  of  having 
listened  to  them  in  the  closet,  had  been  turned  away  ; 
that  she  had  taken  another,  whom  in  all  probability  she 
would  not  keep  long,  because,  in  the  first  place,  she  was 
ugl)',  and,  in  the  second,  she  eat  the  sweetmeats  that 
were  prepared  for  Miss  Temple.  Although  this  intelli- 
gence was  not  very  material,  Sarah  was  nevertheless 
praised  for  her  pmictuality  and  attention  ;  and  a  few 
days  afterwards  she  brought  him  news  of  real  impor- 
tance. 

Rochester  was  by  her  informed,  that  Miss  Hobart  and 
her  new  favorite  designed,  about  nine  o'clock  in  the 
evening  to  walk  in  the  Mall,  in  the  Park  ;  that  they  were 
to  change  clothes  with  each  other,  to  put  on  scarfs,  and 
wear  black  masks  ;  she  added,  that  Miss  Hobart  had 
strongly  opposed  this  project,  but  that  she  was  obliged 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


273 


to  give  way  at  last,  Miss  Temple  having  resolved  to  in- 
dulge her  fancy. 

Upon  the  strength  of  this  intelligence,  Rochester  con- 
certed his  measures  :  he  went  to  Killegrew,  complained 
to  him  of  the  trick  which  Miss  Hobart  had  played  him, 
and  desired  his  assistance  in  order  to  be  revenged  :  this 
was  readily  granted,  and  having  acquainted  him  with 
the  measures  he  intended  to  pursue,  and  gi\-en  him  the 
part  he  was  to  act  in  this  adventure,  they  went  to  the 
Mall. 

Presently  after  appeared  our  two  nymphs  in  masquer- 
ade :  their  shapes  were  not  very  different,  and  their 
faces,  which  were  very  unlike  each  other,  were  con- 
cealed with  their  masks.  The  company  was  but  thin  in 
the  Park  ;  and  as  soon  as  Miss  Temple  perceived  them 
at  a  distance,  she  quickened  her  pace  in  order  to  join 
them,  with  the  design,  under  her  disguise,  severely  to 
reprimand  the  perfidious  Rochester  ;  when  I\Iiss  Hobart 
stopping  her  :  "  Where  are  you  running  to?"  said  she  ; 
"  have  you  a  mind  to  engage  in  conversation  with  these 
two  devils,  to  be  exposed  to  all  the  insolence  and  imper- 
tinence for  which  they  are  so  notorious?"  These  re- 
monstrances were  entirely  useless  :  Miss  Temple  was  re- 
solved to  try  the  experiment  :  and  all  tliat  could  be  ob- 
tained from  her  was,  not  to  answer  any  of  the  questions 
Rochester  might  ask  her. 

They  were  accosted  just  as  they  had  done  speaking  : 
Rochester  fixed  upon  Hobart,  pretending  to  take  her  for 
the  other  ;  at  which  she  was  overjoyed  ;  but  Miss  Tem- 
ple was  extremely  sorry  she  fell  to  Killegrew's  share, 
with  whom  she  had  nothing  to  do  :  he  perceived  her 
uneasiness,  and,  pretending  to  know  her  by  her  clothes  : 
"Ah  !  Miss  Hobart,"  said  he,  "be  so  kind  as  look  this 
way  if  yoii  please  :  I  know  not  by  what  chance  you  both 
came  hither,  but  I  am  sure  it  is  very  apropos  for  you, 
since  I  have  something  to  say  to  you,  as  your  friend  and 
humble  servant." 
18 


274  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 

This  beginning  raising  her  curiosity,  Miss  Temple  ap- 
peared more  inclined  to  attend  him;  and  Killegrew, 
perceiving  that  the  other  couple  had  insensibly  proceeded 
some  distance  from  them  :  "In  the  name  of  God,"  said 
he,  "what  do  you  mean  by  railing  so  against  Lord 
Rochester,  whom  you  know  to  be  one  of  the  most  honor- 
able men  at  court,  and  whom  you  nevertheless  described 
as  the  greatest  villain  to  the  person  whom  of  all  others 
he  esteems  and  respects  the  most?  What  do  you  think 
would  become  of  you,  if  he  knew  that  you  made  Miss 
Temple  believe  that  she  is  the  person  alluded  to  in  a  cer- 
tain song,  which  you  know  as  well  as  myself  was  made 
upon  the  clumsy  Miss  Price,  above  a  year  before  the  fair 
Temple  was  heard  of?  Be  not  surprised  that  I  know  so 
much  of  the  matter,  but  pay  a  little  attention,  I  pray  you, 
to  what  I  am  now  going  to  tell  you  out  of  pure  friend- 
ship :  your  passion  and  inclinations  for  Miss  Temple  are 
known  to  every  one  but  herself ;  for  whatever  methods 
you  used  to  impose  upon  her  innocence,  the  world  does  her 
the  justice  to  believe  that  she  would  treat  you  as  Lady 
Falmouth  did,  if  the  poor  girl  knew  the  wicked  designs 
you  had  upon  her:  I  caution  you,  therefore,  against 
making  any  further  advances  to  a  person  too  modest  to 
listen  to  them  :  I  advise  you  likewise  to  take  back  youv 
maid  again,  in  order  to  silence  her  scandalous  tongue  ; 
for  she  says  everywhere  that  she  is  with  child,  that  you 
are  the  occasion  of  her  being  in  that  condition,  and  ac- 
cuses you  of  behaving  towards  her  with  the  blackest 
ingratitude,  upon  trifling  suspicions  only:  you  know 
very  well,  these  are  no  stories  of  my  own  invention  ;  but 
that  you  may  not  entertain  any  manner  of  doubt,  that  I 
had  all  this  from  her  own  mouth  ;  she  has  told  me  }'our 
conversation  in  the  bathing-room  ;  the  characters  you 
there  drew  of  the  principal  men  at  court  ;  your  artful 
malice  in  applying  so  improperly  a  scandalous  song  to 
one  of  the  loveliest  women  in  all  England;  and  in  what 
manner  the  innocent  girl  fell  into  the  snare  you  had  laid 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


275 


for  her,  in  order  to  do  justice  to  her  charms.  But  that 
which  nii<;ht  be  of  the  most  fatal  consequences  to  you  in 
that  long^  conversation,  is  the  revealing  certain  secrets, 
which,  in  all  probability,  the  duchess  did  not  entrust 
you  with,  to  be  imparted  to  the  maids  of  honor  :  reflect 
upon  this,  and  neglect  not  to  make  some  reparation  to 

Sir  Lyttelton,  for  the  ridicule  with  which  you  were 

pleased  to  load  him.  I  know  not  whether  he  had  his 
information  from  your  femme-de-chambre,  but  I  am  very 
certain  that  he  has  sworn  he  will  be  revenged,  and  he  is 
a  man  that  keeps  his  word  ;  for  after  all,  that  you  may 
not  be  deceived  by  his  look,  like  that  of  a  Stoic,  and  his 
gravity,  like  that  of  a  judge,  I  must  acquaint  you,  that 
he  is  the  most  passionate  man  living.  Indeed,  these  in- 
vectives are  of  the  blackest  and  most  horrible  nature:  he 
says  it  is  most  infamous,  that  a  wretch  like  yourself 
should  find  no  other  employment  than  to  blacken  the 
characters  of  gentlemen  to  gratify  your  jealousy;  that  if 
you  do  not  desist  from  such  conduct  for  the  future,  he 
will  immediately  complain  of  you;  and  that  if  her  Royal 
Highness  will  not  do  him  justice,  he  is  determined  to  do 
himself  justice,  and  to  run  you  through  the  body  with 
his  own  sword,  though  you  were  even  in  the  arms  of 
]\Iiss  Temple,  and  that  it  is  most  scandalous  that  all  the 
maids  of  honor  should  get  into  your  hands  before  they 
can  look  around  them. 

"These  things,  madam,  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  ac- 
quaint you  with  :  you  are  better  able  to  judge  than  my- 
self, whether  what  I  have  now  advanced  be  true,  and  I 
leave  it  to  your  own  discretion  to  make  what  use  you 
think  proper  of  my  advice;  but  were  I  in  your  situa- 
tion, I  would  endeavor  to  reconcile  Lord  Rochester  and 
Mi.ss  Temple.  Once  more  I  recommend  to  }  ou  to  take 
care  that  your  endeavors  to  mislead  her  innocency,  in 
order  to  blast  his  honor,  may  not  come  to  his  knowledge; 
and  do  not  estrange  from  her  a  man  who  tenderly  loves 
her,  and  whose  probity  is  so  great,  that  he  would  not 


276  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMOXT. 


even  suffer  his  eyes  to  wander  towards  her,  if  his  inten- 
tion was  not  to  make  her  his  wife." 

INIiss  Temple  observed  her  promise  most  faithfully  dur- 
ing this  discourse:  she  did  not  even  utter  a  single  syllable, 
being  seized  with  such  astonishment  and  confusion,  that 
she  quite  lost  the  use  of  her  tongue. 

Miss  Hobart  and  Lord  Rochester  came  up  to  her, 
while  she  was  still  in  amazement  at  the  wonderful  dis- 
coveries she  had  made;  things  in  themselves,  in  her 
opinion,  almost  incredible,  but  to  the  truth  of  which  she 
could  not  refuse  her  assent,  upon  examining  the  evi- 
dences and  circumstances  on  which  they  were  founded. 
Never  was  confusion  equal  to  that  with  which  her  whole 
frame  was  seized  b}'  the  foregoing  recital. 

Rochester  and  Killegrew  took  leave  of  them  before 
she  recovered  from  her  surprise;  but  as  soon  as  she  had 
regained  the  free  use  of  her  senses,  she  hastened  back  to 
St.  James,  without  answering  a  single  question  that  the 
other  put  to  her  ;  and  having  locked  herself  up  in  her 
chamber,  the  first  thing  she  did,  was  immediately  to  strip 
off  Miss  Hobart' s  clothes,  lest  she  should  be  contaminated 
by  them  ;  for  after  what  she  had  been  told  concerning 
her,  she  looked  upon  her  as  a  monster,  dreadful  to  the 
innocence  of  the  fair  sex,  of  whatever  sex  she  migfht  be  : 
she  blushed  at  the  familiarities  she  had  been  drawn  into 
with  a  creature,  whose  maid  was  with  child,  though  she 
never  had  been  in  any  other  service  but  hers:  she  there- 
fore returned  her  all  her  clothes,  ordered  her  serv  ant  to 
bring  back  all  her  own,  and  resolved  never  more  to  have 
any  connection  with  her.  INIiss  Hobart,  on  the  other 
hand,  who  supposed  Killegrew  had  mistaken  IMiss  Tem- 
ple for  herself,  could  not  comprehend  what  could  induce 
her  to  give  herself  such  surprising  airs,  since  that  conver- 
sation; but  being  desirous  to  come  to  an  explanation,  she 
ordered  Miss  Temple's  maid  to  remain  in  her  apartments, 
and  went  to  call  upon  Miss  Temple  herself,  instead  of 
sending  back  her  clothes;  and  being  desirous  to  give  her 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  ORAJIIMONT. 


277 


some  proof  of  friendship  before  they  entered  npon  expos- 
tulations, she  slipped  softly  into  her  chamber,  when  she 
was  in  the  very  act  of  changino;  her  linen,  and  embraced 
her.  IMiss  Temple  finding  herself  in  her  arms  before  she 
had  taken  notice  of  her,  everything  that  Killegrew  had 
mentioned,  appeared  to  her  imagination:  she  fancied 
that  she  saw  in  her  looks  the  eagerness  of  a  satyr,  or,  if 
possible,  of  some  monster  still  more  odious;  and  disengag- 
ing herself  with  the  highest  indignation  from  her  arms, 
she  began  to  shriek  and  cry  in  the  most  terrible  manner, 
calling  both  heaven  and  earth  to  her  assistance. 

The  first  whom  her  cries  raised  were  the  governess 
and  her  niece.  It  was  near  twelve  o'clock  at  night  : 
Miss  Temple  in  her  shift,  almost  frightened  to  death, 
was  pu.shing  back  with  horror  Miss  Hobart,  who  ap- 
proached her  with  no  other  intent  than  to  know  the 
occasion  of  these  transports.  As  soon  as  the  governess 
saw  this  scene,  she  began  to  lecture  Miss  Hobart  with 
all  the  eloquence  of  a  real  duenna:  she  demanded  of  her, 
whether  she  thought  it  was  for  her  that  her  Royal  High- 
ness kept  the  maids  of  honor?  whether  she  was  not 
ashamed  to  come  at  such  an  unseasonable  time  of  night 
into  their  very  apartments  to  conunit  such  violences? 
and  swore  that  she  would,  the  very  next  day,  complain 
to  the  duchess.  All  this  confirmed  IMiss  Temple  in  her 
mistaken  notions:  and  Hobart  was  obliged  to  go  away  at 
last,  without  being  able  to  convince  or  bring  to  reason 
creatures,  whom  she  believed  to  be  either  distracted  or 
mad.  The  next  day  Miss  Sarah  did  not  fail  to  relate 
this  adventure  to  her  lover,  telling  him  how  Miss  Tem- 
ple's cries  had  alarmed  the  maids  of  honor's  apartment, 
and  how  herself  and  her  aunt,  running  to  her  a.ssistance, 
had  almost  surprised  Miss  Hobart  in  the  very  act. 

Two  days  after,  the  whole  adventure,  with  the  addition 
of  several  embellishments,  was  made  public  :  the  gover- 
ness swore  to  the  truth  of  it,  and  related  in  every  com- 
pany what  a  narrow  escape  IMiss  Temple  had  experi- 


278  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


enced,  and  that  Miss  Sarah,  her  niece,  had  preserved 
her  honor,  because,  by  Lord  Rochester's  excellent 
advice,  she  had  forbidden  her  all  manner  of  connection 
with  so  dangerous  a  person.  Miss  Temple  was  after- 
wards informed,  that  the  song  that  had  so  greatly  pro- 
voked her  alluded  to  Miss  Price  only :  this  was  con- 
firmed to  her  by  every  person,  with  additional  execrations 
against  Miss  Hobart,  for  such  a  scandalous  imposition. 
Such  great  coldness  after  so  much  familiarity,  made 
many  believe,  that  this  adventure  was  not  altogether  a 
fiction. 

This  had  been  sufficient  to  have  disgraced  Miss  Hobart 
at  court,  and  to  have  totally  ruined  her  reputation  in 
London,  had  she  not  been,  upon  the  present,  as  well  as 
upon  a  former  occasion,  supported  by  the  duchess  :  her 
Royal  Highness  pretended  to  treat  the  whole  story  as 
romantic  and  visionary,  or  as  solely  arising  from  private 
pique :  she  chid  Miss  Temple,  for  her  impertinent 
credulity  :  turned  away  the  governess  and  her  niece,  for 
the  lies  with  which  she  pretended  they  supported  the 
imposture  ;  and  did  many  improper  things  in  order  to 
re-establish  Miss  Hobart's  honor,  which,  however,  she 
failed  in  accomplishing.  She  had  her  reasons  for  not 
entirely  abandoning  her,  as  will  appear  in  the  sequel. 

Miss  Temple,  who  continually  reproached  herself 
with  injustice,  with  respect  to  Lord  Rochester,  and  who, 
upon  the  faith  of  Killegrew's  word,  thought  him  the 
most  honorable  man  in  England,  was  only  solicitous  to 
find  out  some  opportunity  of  easing  her  mind,  by  making 
him  some  reparation  for  the  rigor  with  which  she  had 
treated  him  :  these  favorable  dispositions,  in  the  hands 
of  a  man  of  his  character,  might  have  led  to  conse- 
quences of  which  she  was  not  aware  ;  but  heaven  did  not 
allow  him  an  opportunity  of  profiting  by  them. 

Ever  since  he  had  first  appeared  at  court  he  seldom 
failed  being  banished  from  it,  at  least  once  in  the  year  ; 
for  whenever  a  word  presented  itself  to  his  pen,  or  to 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


279 


his  tongue,  he  immediately  committed  it  to  paper,  or 
produced  it  in  conversation,  without  any  manner  of  re- 
gard to  the  consequences  ;  the  ministers,  the  mistresses, 
and  even  the  king  himself,  were  frequently  the  subjects 
of  his  sarcasms ;  and  had  not  the  prince,  whom  he  thus 
treated,  been  possessed  of  one  of  the  most  forgiving  and 
gentle  tempers,  his  first  disgrace  had  certainly  been  his 
last. 

Just  at  the  time  that  Miss  Temple  was  desirous  of 
seeing  him,  in  order  to  apologize  for  the  uneasiness 
which  the  infamous  calumnies  and  black  aspersions  of 
Miss  Hobart  had  occasioned  both  of  them,  he  was  forbid 
the  court  for  the  third  time  :  he  departed  without  having 
seen  Miss  Temple,  carried  the  disgraced  governess  down 
with  him  to  his  country  seat,  and  exerted  all  his  en- 
deavors to  cultivate  in  her  niece  some  dispositions  which 
she  had  for  the  stage  ;  but  though  she  did  not  make  the 
same  improvement  in  this  line,  as  she  had  by  his  other 
instructions,  after  he  had  entertained  both  the  niece  and 
the  aimt  for  some  months  in  the  coimtry,  he  got  her 
entered  in  the  king's  company  of  comedians  the  next 
winter ;  and  the  public  was  obliged  to  him  for  the 
prettiest,  but  at  the  same  time,  the  worst  actress  in  the 
kingdom.* 

*  Though  no  name  is  given  to  this  lady,  there  are  circumstances 
enough  mentioned  to  fix  on  the  celebrated  Mrs.  Barry,  as  the  person 
intended  hy  the  author.  Mrs.  Barry  was  introduced  to  the  stage  by 
Lord  Rochester,  with  whom  she  had  an  intrigue,  the  fruit  of  which  was 
a  daughter,  who  lived  to  the  age  of  thirteen  years,  and  is  often  men- 
tioned in  his  collection  of  love-letters,  printed  in  his  works,  which  were 
written  to  Mrs.  Barry.  On  her  first  theatrical  attempts,  so  little  hopes 
were  entertained  of  her,  that  she  was,  as  Cibber  declares,  discharged  from 
the  company  at  the  end  of  the  first  year,  among  others  that  were  thought 
to  be  a  useless  expense  to  it.  She  was  well  born  ;  being  daughter  of 
Robert  Barrj-,  Esq.,  barrister  at  law  ;  a  gentleman  of  an  ancient  family 
and  good  estate,  who  hurt  his  fortune  by  his  attachment  to  Charles  I.  ; 
for  whom  he  raised  a  regiment  at  his  own  expense.  Tony  Aston,  in  his 
Supplement  to  Gibber's  Apoloffy.  s.a.ys,  she  was  woman  to  lady  Shelton 
of  Norfolk,  who  might  have  belonged  to  the  court.    Curl,  however,  says, 


280 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


About  this  time  Talbot  retiirned  from  Ireland :  lie 
soon  felt  the  absence  of  Miss  Hamilton,  who  was  then  in 
the  country  with  a  relation,  whom  w^e  shall  mention 
hereafter.  A  remnant  of  his  former  tenderness  still 
subsisted  in  his  heart,  notwithstanding  his  absence,  and 
the  promises  he  had  given  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont 
at  parting :  he  now  therefore  endeavored  to  banish  her 
entirely  from  his  thoughts,  by  fixing  his  desires  upon 
some  other  object  ;  but  he  saw  no  one  in  the  queen's 
new  court  whom  he  thought  worthy  of  his  attention  : 
Miss  Boynton,*  however,  thought  him  worthy  of  hers. 

she  was  early  taken  under  the  patronage  of  Lady  Davenant.  Both  these 
accounts  may  be  true.  The  time  of  her  appearance  on  the  stage  was 
probably  not  much  earlier  than  1671  ;  in  which  year  she  performed  in 
Tom  Essence,  and  was,  it  may  be  conjectured,  about  the  age  of  nineteen. 
Curl  mentions  the  great  pains  taken  by  Lord  Rochester  in  instructing 
her ;  which  were  repaid  by  the  rapid  progress  she  daih'  made  in  her 
profession.  She  at  last  eclipsed  all  her  competitors,  and  in  the  part  of 
Monimia  established  her  reputation.  From  her  performance  in  this 
character,  in  that  of  Belvidera,  and  of  Isabella,  in  the  Fatal  Marriage, 
Downes  says  she  acquired  the  name  of  the  famous  Mrs.  Barry,  both  at 
court  and  in  the  city.  "Mrs.  Barry,"  says  Dr3'den,  in  his  Preface  to 
Cleomenes,  "  always  excellent,  has  in  this  tragedy  excelled  herself,  and 
gained  a  reputation  beyond  any  woman  I  have  ever  seen  on  the 
theatre."  "  In  characters  of  greatness,"  says  Cibber,  "  Mrs.  Barry  had 
a  presence  of  elevated  dignity  ;  her  mien  and  motion  superb,  and  grace- 
fully majestic  ;  her  voice  full,  clear,  and  strong  ;  so  that  no  violence  of 
passion  could  be  too  nmch  for  her ;  and  when  distress  or  tenderness 
possessed  her,  she  subsided  into  the  most  affecting  melody  and  softness. 
In  the  art  of  exciting  pity,  she  had  a  power  beyond  all  the  actresses  I 
have  yet  seen,  or  what  your  imagination  can  conceive.  In  scenes  of 
anger,  defiance,  or  resentment,  while  she  was  impetuous  and  terrible, 
she  poured  out  the  sentiment  with  an  enchanting  harmony  ;  and  it  was 
this  particular  excellence  for  which  Dr3-den  made  her  the  above-recited 
compliment,  upon  her  acting  Ca.ssandra  in  his  Cleomenes.  She  was  the 
first  person  whose  merit  was  distinguished  by  the  indulgence  of  ha\'ing 
an  annual  benefit  play,  which  was  granted  to  her  alone  in  King  James's 
time,  and  which  did  not  become  common  to  others  till  the  division  of 
this  company,  after  the  death  of  King  William  and  Queen  Mary." — 
Cibber' s  Apology,  1750,  p.  133.  She  died  7th  November,  1713,  and 
was  buried  at  Acton.  The  inscription  over  her  remains  says  she  was 
55  years  of  age. 

*  Daughter  of  Matthew  Boynton,  second  son  of  Sir  Matthew  Boyutou 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT.  281 

Her  person  was  slender  and  delicate,  to  which  a  good 
complexion  and  large  motionless  e>-es  gave  at  a  distance 
an  appearance  of  beauty,  that  vanished  upon  nearer  in- 
spection :  she  affected  to  lisp,  to  languish,  and  to  have 
two  or  three  fainting-fits  a  da)-.  The  first  time  that 
Talbot  cast  his  eyes  upon  her  she  was  seized  with  one 
of  these  fits  :  he  was  told  that  she  swooned  awa\-  upon 
his  account  :  he  believed  it,  was  eager  to  afford  her  as- 
sistance ;  and  ever  after  that  accident  showed  her  some 
kindness,  more  with  the  intention  of  saving  her  life, 
than  to  express  any  affection  he  felt  for  her.  This  seem- 
ing tenderness  was  well  received,  and  at  first  she  was 
visibly  affected  by  it.  Talbot  was  one  of  the  tallest  men 
in  England,  and  in  all  appearance  one  of  the  most  ro- 
bust ;  yet  she  showed  sufficiently  that  she  was  willing  to 
expose  the  delicacy  of  her  constitution,  to  whatever 
might  happen,  in  order  to  become  his  wife  ;  which  event 
perhaps  might  then  have  taken  place,  as  it  did  after- 
wai'ds,  had  not  the  charms  of  the  fair  Jennings  at  that 
time,  proved  an  obstacle  to  her  wishes. 

I  know  not  how  it  came  to  pass  that  he  had  not  yet 
seen  her  ;  though  he  had  heard  her  much  praised,  and 
her  prudence,  wit,  and  vivacity  equally  commended  ;  he 
believed  all  this  upon  the  faith  of  common  report.  He 
thought  it  very  singular  that  discretion  and  sprightliness 
should  be  so  intimately  united  in  a  person  so  }oung, 
more  particularly  in  the  midst  of  a  court  where  love  and 
gallantry  were  .so  much  in  fashion ;  but  he  found  her 
personal  accomplishments  greatly  to  exceed  whatever 
fame  had  reported  of  them. 

As  it  was  not  long  before  he  perceived  he  was  in  love, 
neither  was  it  long  before  he  made  a  declaration  of  it : 
as  his  passion  was  likely  enough  to  be  real,  Miss  Jennings 
thought  she  might  believe  him,  without  exposing  her- 


of  Barmston,  in  Yorkshire.  The  sister  of  this  lady  married  the  cele- 
brated Earl  of  Roscommon. 


282  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


self  to  the  imputation  of  vanity.  Talbot  was  possessed 
of  a  fine  and  brilliant  exterior,  his  manners  were  noble 
and  majestic  :  besides  this,  he  was  particv;larly  distin- 
giiished  by  the  favor  and  friendship  of  the  duke  ;  but  his 
most  essential  merit,  with  her,  was  his  forty  thousand 
pounds  a-year,  landed  property,  besides  his  employ- 
ments. All  these  qualities  came  within  the  rules  and 
maxims  she  had  resolved  to  follow  with  respect  to  lovers: 
thus,  though  he  had  not  the  satisfaction  to  obtain  from 
her  an  entire  declaration  of  her  sentiments,  he  had  at 
least  the  pleasure  of  being  better  received  than  those 
who  had  paid  their  addresses  to  her  before  him. 

No  person  attempted  to  interrupt  his  happiness  ;  and 
Miss  Jennings,  perceiving  that  the  duchess  approved  of 
Talbot's  pretensions,  and  after  having  well  weighed  the 
matter,  and  consulted  her  own  inclinations,  found  that 
her  reason  was  more  favorable  to  him  than  her  heart, 
and  that  the  most  she  could  do  for  his  satisfaction  was  to 
marry  him  without  reluctance. 

Talbot,  too  fortunate  in  a  preference  which  no  man 
had  before  experienced,  did  not  examine  whether  it  was 
to  her  heart  or  to  her  head  that  he  was  indebted  for  it, 
and  his  thoughts  were  solely  occupied  in  hastening  the 
accomplishment  of  his  wishes :  one  would  have  sworn 
that  the  happy  minute  was  at  hand  ;  but  love  would  no 
longer  be  love,  if  he  did  not  delight  in  obstructing,  or 
in  overturning  the  happiness  of  those  who  live  under 
his  dominion. 

Talbot,  who  found  nothing  reprehensible  either  in  the 
person,  in  the  conversation,  or  in  the  reputation  of  Miss 
Jennings,  was  however  rather  concerned  at  a  new 
acquaintance  she  had  lately  fonned ;  and  having  taten 
upon  him  to  give  her  some  cautions  upon  this  subject, 
she  was  much  displeased  at  his  conduct. 

Miss  Price,  .formerly  maid  of  honor,  that  had  been 
set  aside,  as  we  have  before  mentioned,  upon  her  leaving 
the  duchess's  service,  had  recourse  to  Lady  Castlemaine's 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


283 


protection  :  she  had  a  very  entertaining  wit  :  her  com- 
plaisance was  adapted  to  all  humors,  and  her  own  humor 
was  possessed  of  a  fund  of  gaiety  and  sprightliness  which 
diffused  universal  mirth  and  merriment  wherever  she 
came.  Her  acquaintance  with  Miss  Jennings  was  prior 
to  Talbot's. 

As  she  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  all  the  in- 
trigues of  the  court,  she  related  them  without  an)-  man- 
ner of  reserve  to  Miss  Jennings,  and  her  own  with  the 
same  frankness  as  the  others  :  Miss  Jennings  was  ex- 
tremely well  pleased  with  her  stories  ;  for  though  she 
was  determined  to  make  no  experiment  in  love,  but  upon 
honorable  terms,  she  however  was  desirous  of  knowing 
from  her  recitals  all  the  different  intrigues  that  were 
carrying  on  :  thus,  as  she  was  never  wearied  with  her 
conversation,  she  was  overjoyed  whenever  she  could  see 
her. 

Talbot,  who  remarked  the  extreme  relish  she  had  for 
Miss  Price's  company^  thought  that  the  reputation  such 
a  woman  had  in  the  world  might  prove  injurious  to  his 
mistress,  more  especially  from  the  particular  intimacy 
there  seemed  to  exist  between  them  :  whereupon,  in  the 
tone  of  a  guardian  rather  than  a  lover,  he  took  upon  him 
to  chide  her  for  the  disreputable  company  she  kept. 
Miss  Jennings  was  haughty  be)'ond  conception,  when 
once  she  took  it  into  her  head  ;  and  as  she  liked  Miss 
Price's  conversation  much  better  than  Talbot's,  she  took 
the  liberty  of  desiring  him  "to  attend  to  his  own  affairs, 
and  that  if  he  only  came  from  Ireland  to  read  lectures 
about  her  conduct,  he  might  take  the  trouble  to  go  back 
as  soon  as  he  pleased."  He  was  offended  at  a  sally  which 
he  thought  ill-timed,  considering  the  situation  of  affairs 
between  them  ;  and  went  out  of  her  presence  more 
abruptly  than  became  the  respect  due  from  a  man 
greatly  in  love.  He  for  some  time  appeared  offended  ; 
but  perceiving  that  he  gained  nothing  by  such  conduct, 
he  grew  weary  of  acting  that  part,  and  assumed  that  of 


284 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


an  humble  lover,  in  which  he  was  equally  unsuccessfnl; 
neither  his  repentance  nor  submissions  could  produce 
any  effect  upon  her,  and  the  mutinous  little  gipsy  was 
still  in  her  pouts  when  Jermyn  returned  to  court. 

It  was  above  a  year  since  he  had  triumphed  over  the 
weakness  of  Lady  Castlemaine,  and  above  two  since  the 
king  had  been  weary  of  his  tritmiphs  :  his  uncle,  being 
one  of  the  first  who  perceived  the  king's  disgust,  obliged 
him  to  absent  himself  from  court,  at  the  very  time  that 
orders  were  going  to  be  issued  for  that  purpose  ;  for 
though  the  king's  affections  for  Lady  Castlemaine  were 
now  greatly  diminished,  yet  he  did  not  think  it  consistent 
with  his  dignity  that  a  mistress,  whom  he  had  honored 
with  public  distinction,  and  who  still  received  a  con- 
siderable support  from  him,  should  appear  chained  to 
the  car  of  the  most  ridiculous  conqueror  that  ever  ex- 
isted. His  Majesty  had  frequently  expostulated  with  the 
countess  upon  this  subject :  but  his  expostulations  were 
never  attended  to  ;  it  was  in  one  of  these  differences  that 
he,  advising  her  rather  to  bestow  her  favors  upon  Jacob 
Hall,  the  rope-dancer,  who  was  able  to  return  them,  than 
lavish  away  her  money  upon  Jermyn  to  no  purpose,  since 
it  would  be  more  honorable  for  her  to  pass  for  the  mis- 
tress of  the  first,  than  for  the  very  humble  servant  of  the 
other,  she  was  not  proof  against  his  raillery.  The  im- 
petuosity of  her  temper  broke  forth  like  lightning  :  she 
told  him  "  that  it  very  ill  became  him  to  throw  out  such 
reproaches  against  one  who,  of  all  the  women  in  Eng- 
land, deserved  them  the  least ;  that  he  had  never  ceased 
quarrelling  thus  unjustly  with  her,  ever  since  he  had  be- 
trayed his  own  mean,  low  inclinations  ;  that  to  gratify 
such  a  depraved  taste  as  his,  he  wanted  only  such  silly 
things  as  vStewart,  Wells,  and  that  pitiful  strolling  ac- 
tress,* whom  he  had  lately  introduced  into  their  so- 
ciety."   Floods  of  tears,  from  rage,  generally  attended 


*  Probabl}'  Nell  Gwyn. 


MEMOIRS  OK  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


285 


these  storms  ;  after  which,  resuniinj;  the  part  of  Medea, 
the  scene  closed  with  menaces  of  tearin<;-  her  children  in 
pieces  and  setting  his  palace  on  fire.  What  conrse  could 
he  pursue  with  such  an  outrageous  fury,  who,  beautiful 
as  she  was,  resembled  Medea  less  than  her  dragons,  when 
she  was  thus  enraged  ! 

The  indulgent  monarch  loved  peace;  and  as  he  seldom 
contended  for  it  on  these  occasions  without  paying  some- 
thing to  obtain  it,  he  was  obliged  to  be  at  great  expense, 
in  order  to  reconcile  this  last  rupture  :  as  they  could  not 
agree  of  themselves,  and  both  parties  equally  complained, 
the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  was  chosen,  by  mutual  con- 
sent, mediator  of  the  treat}'.  The  grievances  and  pre- 
tensions on  each  side  were  communicated  to  him,  and 
what  is  very  extraordinary,  he  managed  so  as  to  please 
them  both.  Here  follow  the  articles  of  peace  which  they 
agreed  to  : 

"That  Lady  Castleniaine  should  forever  abandon 
Jermyn  ;  that  as  a  proof  of  her  sincerity,  and  the  reality 
of  his  disgrace,  she  should  consent  to  his  being  sent,  for 
some  time,  into  the  country  ;  that  she  should  not  rail 
any  more  against  Miss  Wells,  nor  storm  any  more  against 
Miss  Stewart;  and  this  without  any  restraint  on  the  king's 
behavior  towards  her:  that  in  consideration  of  these  con- 
descensions, his  majesty  should  immediately  give  her 
the  title  of  duchess,*  with  all  the  honors  and  privileges 
thereunto  belonging,  and  an  addition  to  her  pension,  in 
order  to  enable  her  to  support  the  dignity." 

As  soon  as  this  peace  was  proclaimed,  the  political 
critics,  who,  in  all  nations,  never  fail  to  censure  all  state 
proceedings,  pretended  that  the  mediator  of  this  treaty, 
being  every  day  at  pla\'  with  Lady  Castleniaine,  and 
never  losing,  had,  for  his  own  sake,  insisted  a  little  too 
strongly  upon  this  last  article. 


*  The  title  of  Duchess  of  Cleveland  was  conferred  on  her  3(1  August, 
22  Charles  II.,  1670. 


286 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMOXT. 


Some  days  after,  she  was  created  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land, and  little  Jermyn  repaired  to  his  country-seat  : 
however,  it  was  in  his  power  to  have  returned  in  a  fort- 
night ;  for  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  having  procured 
the  king's  permission,  carried  it  to  the  Earl  of  St.  Al- 
bans :  this  revived  the  good  old  man;  but  it  was  to  little 
purpose  he  transmitted  it  to  his  nephew  ;  for  whether  he 
wished  to  make  the  London  beauties  deplore  and  lament 
his  absence,  or  whether  he  wished  them  to  declaim 
against  the  injustice  of  the  age,  or  rail  against  the 
tyranny  of  the  prince,  he  continued  above  half  a  year  in 
the  countr}',  setting  up  for  a  little  philosopher,  under 
the  eyes  of  the  sportsmen  in  the  neighborhood,  who  re- 
garded him  as  an  extraordinary  instance  of  the  caprice 
of  fortune.  He  thought  the  part  he  acted  so  glorious, 
that  he  would  have  continued  there  much  longer  had  he 
not  heard  of  INIiss  Jennings  :  he  did  not,  however,  pay 
much  attention  to  what  his  friends  wrote  to  him  con- 
cerning her  charms,  being  persuaded  he  had  seen  equally 
as  great  in  others  :  what  was  related  to  him  of  her  pride 
and  resistance  appeared  to  him  of  far  greater  conse- 
quence ;  and  to  subdue  the  last,  he  even  looked  upon  as 
an  action  worthy  of  his  prowess  ;  and  quitting  his  re- 
treat for  this  purpose,  he  arrived  in  London  at  the  time 
that  Talbot,  who  was  really  in  love,  had  quarrelled,  in 
his  opinion,  so  unjustly  with  Miss  Jennings. 

She  had  heard  Jermyn  spoken  of  as  a  hero  in  affairs  of 
love  and  gallantry.  Miss  Price,  in  the  recital  of  those 
of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  had  often  mentioned  him, 
without  in  any  respect  diminishing  the  insignificancy 
with  which  fame  insinuated  he  had  conducted  himself 
in  those  amorous  encounters  :  she  nevertheless  had  the 
greatest  curiosity  to  .see  a  man,  whose  entire  person,  she 
thought,  must  be  a  moving  trophy,  and  monument  of 
the  favors  and  freedoms  of  the  fair  sex. 

Thus  Jermyn  arrived  at  the  right  time  to  satisfy  her 
curiosity  by  his  presence;  and  though  his  brilliancy 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


287 


appeared  a  little  tarnished  by  his  residence  in  the  conn- 
try;  thongh  his  head  was  larger  and  his  legs  more 
slender  than  nsnal,  yet  the  giddy  girl  thought  she  had 
never  seen  any  man  so  perfect;  and  yielding  to  her 
destiny,  she  fell  in  love  with  him,  a  thousand  times 
more  unaccountably  than  all  the  others  had  done  before 
her.  Everybody  remarked  this  change  of  conduct  in  her 
with  surprise  ;  for  they  expected  something  more  from 
the  delicacy  of  a  person  who,  till  this  time,  had  be- 
haved with  so  much  propriety  in  all  her  actions. 

Jermyn  was  not  in  the  least  surprised  at  this  conquest, 
though  not  a  little  proud  of  it  ;  for  his  heart  had  very 
soon  as  great  a  share  in  it  as  his  vanity.  Talbot,  who 
saw  with  amazement  the  rapidity  of  this  triumph,  and 
the  disgrace  of  his  own  defeat,  was  ready  to  die  with 
jealousy  and  spite  ;  yet  he  thought  it  would  be  more  to 
his  credit  to  die  than  to  vent  those  passions  unprofitably; 
and  shielding  himself  iinder  a  feigned  indifference,  he 
kept  at  a  distance  to  view  how  far  such  an  extravagant 
prepossession  would  proceed. 

In  the  meantime  Jermyn  quietly  enjoyed  the  happi- 
ness of  seeing  the  inclinations  of  the  prettiest  and  most 
extraordinary  creature  in  England  declared  in  his  fa- 
vor. The  duchess,  who  had  taken  her  under  her  pro- 
tection ever  since  she  had  declined  placing  herself  under 
that  of  the  duke,  .sounded  Jermyn' s  intentions  towards 
her,  and  was  satisfied  with  the  assurances  she  received 
from  a  man,  whose  probity  infinitely  exceeded  his  merit 
in  love:  he  therefore  let  all  the  court  see  that  he  was 
willing  to  marry  her,  though,  at  the  same  time,  he  did 
not  appear  particularly  desirous  of  hastening  the  con- 
summation. Every  person  now  complimented  Miss 
Jennings  upon  having  reduced  to  this  situation  the 
terror  of  husbands  and  the  plague  of  lovers  :  the  court 
was  in  full  expectation  of  this  miracle,  and  Miss  Jen- 
nings of  a  near  approaching  happy  settlement  :  but  in 
this  world  one  must  have  forttine  in  one's  favor,  before 
one  can  calculate  with  certainty  upon  happiness. 


288 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


The  king  did  not  nse  to  let  Lord  Rochester  remain  so 
long  in  exile:  he  grew  weary  of  it,  and  being  displeased 
tliat  he  was  forgotten,  he  posted  up  to  London  to  wait 
till  it  might  be  His  Majesty's  pleasure  to  recall  him. 

He  first  took  up  his  habitation  in  the  city,  among  the 
capital  tradesmen  and  rich  merchants,  where  politeness 
indeed  is  not  so  much  cultivated  as  at  court  ;  but  where 
pleasure,  luxury,  and  abundance  reign  with  less  confu- 
sion, and  more  sincerity.  His  first  design  was  only  to 
be  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  those  fortunate  and 
happy  inhabitants:  that  is  to  say,  by  changing  his  name 
and  dress,  to  gain  admittance  to  their  feasts  and  enter- 
tainments; and,  as  occasion  olfered,  to  those  of  their 
loving  spouses;  as  he  was  able  to  adapt  himself  to  all 
capacities  and  humors,  he  soon  deeply  insinuated  him- 
self into  the  esteem  of  the  siibstantial  wealthy  aldermen, 
and  into  the  affections  of  their  more  delicate,  magnificent, 
and  tender  ladies:  he  made  one  in  all  their  feasts,  and  at 
all  their  assemblies  ;  and,  whilst  in  the  company  of  the 
husbands,  he  declaimed  against  the  faults  and  mistakes 
of  government,  he  joined  their  wives  in  railing  against 
the  profligacy  of  the  court  ladies,  and  in  inveighing 
against  the  king's  mistresses:  he  agreed  with  them  that 
the  industrious  poor  were  to  pay  for  these  cursed  extrav- 
agances; that  the  city  beauties  were  not  inferior  to  those 
of  the  other  end  of  the  town,  and  yet  a  sober  husband  in 
this  quarter  of  the  town  was  satisfied  with  one  wife  ; 
after  which,  to  out-do  their  murmurings,  he  said,  that 
he  wondered  Whitehall  was  not  yet  consumed  by  fire 
from  heaven,  since  such  rakes  as  Rochester,  Killegrew, 
and  Sidney  were  suffered  there,  who  had  the  impudence 
to  assert  that  all  married  men  in  the  city  were  cuckolds, 
and  all  their  wives  painted.  This  conduct  endeared  him 
so  much  to  the  cits,  and  made  him  so  welcome  at  their 
clubs,  that  at  last  he  grew  sick  of  their  cramming  and 
endless  invitations. 

But,  instead  of  approaching  nearer  the  court,  he 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMOXT. 


293 


towards  him,  and  offered  him  her  basket,  whilst  Price, 
more  used  to  the  language,  desired  him  to  buy  her  fine 
oranges.  "  Not  now,"  said  he,  looking  at  them  with 
attention  ;  "but  if  thou  wilt  to-morrow  morning  bring 
this  young  girl  to  my  lodgings,  I  will  make  it  worth  all 
the  oranges  in  London  to  thee:"  and  while  he  thus 
spoke  to  the  one  he  chucked  the  other  under  the  chin, 
examining  her  bosom.    These  familiarities  making  little 


MISS  I'RICJi. 


Jennings  forget  the  part  she  was  acting,  after  having 
pushed  him  away  with  all  the  violence  she  was  able,  she 
told  him  with  indignation  that  it  was  very  insolent  to 
dare —  "Ha!  ha!"  said  he,  "here's  a  rarity  indeed  ! 
a  young  w — ,  who,  the  better  to  sell  her  goods,  sets  up 
for  virtue,  and  pretends  innocence  !" 

Price  immediately  perceived  that  nothing  could  be 
gained  by  continuing  any  longer  in  so  dangerous  a  place; 
and,  taking  her  companion  under  the  arm,  she  dragged 


294 


MEMOIRvS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


her  away,  while  she  was  still  in  emotion  at  the  insult 
that  had  been  offered  to  her. 

Miss  Jennings,  resolving  to  sell  no  more  oranges  on 
these  terms,  was  tempted  to  return,  without  accomplish- 
ing the  other  adventure  ;  but  Price  having  represented 
to  her  the  disgrace  of  such  cowardly  behavior,  more 
particularly  after  having  before  manifested  so  much 
resolution,  she  consented  to  go  and  pay  the  astrologer  a 
short  visit,  so  as  they  might  be  enabled  to  regain  the 
palace  before  the  play  was  ended. 

They  had  one  of  the  doctor's  bills  for  a  direction,  but 
there  was  no  occasion  for  it ;  for  the  driver  of  the  coach 
they  had  taken  told  them  he  knev/  very  well  the  place 
they  wanted,  for  he  had  already  carried  above  an  hun- 
dred persons  to  the  German  doctor's:  they  were  within 
half  a  street  of  his  house,  when  fortune  thought  proper 
to  play  them  a  trick. 

Brounker  *  had  dined  b}'  chance  with  a  merchant  in 
that  part  of  the  city,  and  just  as  he  was  going  away  they 
ordered  their  coach  to  stop,  as  ill-luck  would  have  it, 
just  opposite  to  him.  Two  orange  girls  in  a  hackney 
coach,  one  of  whom  appeared  to  have  a  very  pretty  face, 
immediately  drew  his  attention;  besides,  he  had  a  natural 
curiosity  for  such  objects. 

Of  all  the  men  at  court,  he  had  the  least  regard  for  the 


*  Gentleman  of  the  clianiber  to  the  Duke  of  York,  and  brother  to 
Lord  Viscount  Brounker,  president  of  the  roj  al  society.  Lord  Claren- 
don imputes  to  him  the  cause  of  the  great  sea-fight,  in  1665,  not  being 
so  well  improved  as  it  might  have  been,  and  adds,  "  nor  did  the  duke 
come  to  hear  of  it  till  some  years  after,  when  Mr.  Brounker's  ill  course 
of  life,  and  his  abominable  nature,  had  rendered  him  so  odious  that  it 
was  taken  notice  of  in  parliament,  and,  upon  examination,  found  to  be 
true,  as  is  here  related  ;  upon  which  he  was  expelled  the  house  of  com- 
mons, whereof  he  was  a  member,  as  an  infamous  person,  though  his 
friend  Coventry  adhered  to  him,  and  used  many  indirect  acts  to  have 
protected  him,  and  afterwards  procured  him  to  have  more  countenance 
from  the  king  than  most  men  thought  he  deserved." — Continuation  of 
Clarendon' s  Life,  p.  270. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


29") 


fair  sex,  and  the  least  attention  to  their  reputation  :  he 
was  not  young,  nor  was  his  person  agreeable  ;  however, 
with  a  great  deal  of  wit,  he  had  a  violent  passion  for 
women.  He  did  himself  justice  respecting  his  own 
merit  ;  and,  being  persuaded  that  he  could  only  succeed 
with  those  who  were  desirous  of  having  his  money,  he 
was  at  open  war  with  all  the  rest.  He  had  a  little 
country-house  four  or  five  miles  from  London  always 
well  stocked  with  girls:  *  in  other  respects  he  was  a  very 
honest  man,  and  the  best  chess-player  in  England. 

Price,  alarmed  at  being  thus  closely  examined  by  the 
most  dangerous  enemy  they  could  encounter,  turned  her 
head  the  other  way,  bid  her  companion  do  the  same,  and 
told  the  coachman  to  drive  on.  Brounker  followed  them 
unperceived  on  foot ;  and  the  coach  having  stopped 
twenty  or  thirty  yards  farther  itp  the  street,  they 
alighted.  He  was  just  behind  them,  and  formed  the 
same  judgment  of  them  which  a  man  much  more  charit- 
able to  the  sex  must  unavoidably  have  done,  concluding 
that  Miss  Jennings  was  a  young  courtesan  upon  the  look- 
out, and  that  Miss  Price  was  the  mother-abbess.  He 
was,  however,  surprised  to  see  them  have  much  better 
shoes  and  stockings  than  women  of  that  rank  generally 
wear,  and  that  the  little  orange  girl,  in  getting  out  of  a 
very  high  coach,  .showed  one  of  the  handsomest  legs  he 
had  ever  seen  :  but  as  all  this  was  no  obstruction  to  his 
designs,  he  resolved  to  purchase  her  at  any  rate,  in  order 
to  place  her  in  his  seraglio. 

He  came  up  to  them  as  they  were  giving  their  baskets 
in  guard  to  the  coachman,  with  orders  to  wait  for  them 
exactly  in  that  place.  Brounker  immediately  pushed  in 
between  them:  as  soon  as  they  saw  him,  they  gave  them- 
selves up  for  lost;  but  he,  without  taking  the  least  notice 


*  Brounker,  Love's  squire,  through  all  the  field  array'd, 
No  troop  was  better  clad,  nor  so  well  paid. 

— Andrew  jMarvell's  Poems,  vol.  ii.,  p.  94. 


296  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


of  their  surprise,  took  Price  aside  with  one  hand,  and 
his  purse  with  the  other,  and  began  immediately  to  enter 
upon  business,  hut  was  astonished  to  perceive  that  she 
turned  away  her  face,  without  either  answering  or  look- 
ing at  him  :  As  this  conduct  appeared  to  him  unnatural, 
he  stared  her  full  in  the  face,  notwithstanding  all  her 
endeavors  to  prevent  him  :  he  did  the  same  to  the  other: 
and  immediately  recognised  them,  but  determined  to 
conceal  his  discovery. 

The  old  fox  possessed  a  wonderful  command  of  temper 
on  such  occasions,  and  having  teazed  them  a  little  longer 
to  remove  all  suspicions  he  quitted  them,  telling  Price  : 
"  That  she  was  a  great  fool  to  refuse  his  offers,  and  that 
her  girl  would  not,  perhaps,  get  so  miich  in  a  year  as 
she  might  with  him  in  one  day  ;  that  the  times  were 
greatly  changed  since  the  queen's  and  the  duchess's 
maids  of  honor  forestalled  the  market,  and  were  to  be 
had  cheaper  than  the  town  ladies."  Upon  this  he  went 
back  to  his  coach,  whilst  they  blessed  themselves,  re- 
turning heaven  their  most  hearty  thanks  for  having 
escaped  this  danger  without  being  discovered. 

Brounker,  on  the  other  hand,  would  not  have  taken  a 
thousand  guineas  for  this  rencounter  :  he  blessed  the 
Lord  that  he  had  not  alarmed  them  to  such  a  degree  as 
to  frustrate  their  intention  ;  for  he  made  no  doubt  but 
Miss  Price  had  managed  some  intrigue  for  Miss  Jennings: 
he  therefore  immediately  concluded,  that  at  present  it 
would  be  improper  to  make  known  his  discovery,  which 
would  have  answered  no  other  end  but  to  have  over- 
whelmed them  with  confusion. 

Upon  this  account,  although  Jermyn  was  one  of  his 
best  friends,  he  felt  a  secret  joy  in  not  having  prevented 
his  being  made  a  cuckold,  before  his  marriage  ;  and  the 
apprehension  he  was  in  of  preserving  him  from  that  acci- 
dent was  his  sole  reason  for  quitting  them  with  the  pre- 
cautions aforementioned. 

Whilst  they  were  under  these  alarms,  their  coachman 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT.  289 


retreated  into  one  of  the  most  obscure  corners  of  the  city; 
where,  again  changing  both  his  name  and  dress,  in  order 
to  act  a  new  part,  he  caused  bills  to  be  dispersed,  giving 
notice  of  "The  recent  arrival  of  a  famous  German  doc- 
tor,* who,  by  long  application  and  experience,  had 
found  out  wonderful  secrets,  and  infallible  remedies." 
His  secrets  consisted  in  knowing  what  was  past,  and 
foretelling  what  was  to  come,  by  the  assistance  of  astrol- 
ogy: and  the  virtue  of  his  remedies  principally  consisted 
in  giving  present  relief  to  unfortunate  young  women 
in  all  manner  of  diseases,  and  all  kinds  of  accidents  inci- 
dent to  the  fair  sex,  either  from  too  unbounded  charity 
to  their  neighbors,  or  too  great  indulgence  to  them- 
selves. 

His  first  practice  being  confined  to  his  neighborhood, 
was  not  very  considerable  ;  but  his  reputation  soon 
extending  to  the  other  end  of  the  town,  there  pres- 
ently flocked  to  him  the  women  attending  on  the 
court,  next,  the  chambermaids  of  ladies  of  quality, 
who,  upon  the  wonders  they  related  concerning  the 
German  doctor,  were  soon  followed  by  some  of  their 
mistresses. 

Among  all  the  compositions  of  a  ludicrous  and  satir- 
ical kind,  there  never  existed  any  that  could  be  compared 
to  those  of  Lord  Rochester,  either  for  humor,  fire,  or 
wit;  but,  of  all  his  works,  the  most  ingenious  and  euter- 


*  Hisbop  Buniet  confirnis  this  account. — "Being  under  an  unlucky 
accident,  which  ohhged  him  to  keep  out  of  the  way,  he  disguised  him- 
self so,  that  his  nearest  friends  could  not  have  known  him,  and  set  up 
in  Tower  Street  for  an  Italian  mountebank,  where  he  practised  physic 
for  some  weeks,  not  without  success.  In  his  latter  years  he  read  books 
of  history  more.  He  took  pleasure  to  disguise  himself  as  a  porter,  or 
as  a  beggar,  sometimes  to  follow  some  mean  amours,  which,  for  the 
variety  of  them,  he  affected.  At  other  times,  merely  for  diversion,  he 
would  go  about  in  odd  shapes  ;  in  which  he  acted  his  part  so  naturally, 
that  even  those  who  were  in  the  secret,  and  saw  him  in  these  shapes, 
could  perceive  nothing  by  which  he  might  be  discovered." — BunicCs 
Life  of  Rochester,  ed.  1774,  p.  14. 
19 


290 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


taiiiing  is  that  which  contains  a  detail  of  the  intrigues 
and  adventures  in  which  he  was  engaged  while  he  pro- 
fessed medicine  and  astrology  in  the  suburbs  of  London. 

The  fair  Jennings  was  very  near  getting  a  place 
in  this  collection;  but  the  adventure  that  prevented 
her  from  it,  did  not,  however,  conceal  from  the  public 
her  intention  of  paying  a  visit  to  the  German  doctor. 

The  first  chambermaids  that  considted  him  were  only 
those  of  the  maids  of  honor;  who  had  niimberless  ques- 
tions to  ask,  and  not  a  few  doubts  to  be  resolved,  both 
on  their  own  and  their  mistresses'  accounts.  Notwith- 
standing their  disguise,  he  recognized  some  of  them, 
particularly  Miss  Temple's  and  Miss  Price's  maids,  and 
her  whom  Miss  Hobart  had  lately  discarded:  these 
creatures  all  returned  either  filled  with  wonder  and 
amazement,  or  petrified  with  terror  and  fear.  Miss 
Temple's  chambermaid  deposed  that  he  assured  her  she 
would  have  the  small-pox,  and  her  mistress  the  great, 
within  two  months  at  the  farthest,  if  her  aforesaid  mis- 
tress did  not  guard  against  a  man  in  woman's  clothes. 
Miss  Price's  woman  affirmed  that,  without  knowing  her, 
and  only  looking  in  her  hand,  he  told  her  at  first  sight, 
that,  according  to  the  course  of  the  stars,  he  perceived 
that  she  was  in  the  service  of  some  good-natured  lady, 
who  had  no  other  fault  than  that  of  loving  wine  and 
men.  In  short,  every  one  of  them,  struck  with  some 
particular  circumstance  relating  to  their  own  private 
affairs,  had  either  alarmed  or  diverted  their  mistresses 
with  the  account,  not  failing,  according  to  custom,  to 
embellish  the  truth,  in  order  to  enhance  the  wonder. 

Miss  Price,  relating  these  circumstances  one  day  to 
her  new  friend,  the  devil  immediately  tempted  her  to  go 
in  person,  and  see  what  sort  of  a  creature  this  new  magi- 
cian was.  This  enterprise  was  certainly  very  rash  ;  but 
nothing  was  too  rash  for  Miss  Jennings,  who  was  of 
opinion  that  a  woman  might  despise  appearances,  pro- 
vided she  was  in  reality  virtuous.    Miss  Price  was  all 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


291 


compliance,  and  thus  having  fixed  upon  this  olorious 
resolution,  they  only  thought  of  the  proper  means  of 
putting  it  into  execution. 

It  was  very  difficult  for  Miss  Jennings  to  disguise  her- 
self, on  account  of  her  excessiv-e  fair  and  bright  com- 
plexion, and  of  something  particular  in  her  air  and 
manner :  however,  after  having  well  considered  the 
matter,  the  best  disguise  they  could  think  of  was  to 
dress  themselves  like  orange  girls.*  This  was  no  sooner 
resolved  upon,  but  it  was  put  in  execution  :  the}-  attired 
themselves  alike,  and,  taking  each  a  basket  of  oranges 
under  their  arms,  they  embarked  in  a  hackney  coach, 
and  committed  themselves  to  fortune,  without  any  other 
escort  than  their  own  caprice  and  indiscretion. 

The  duchess  was  gone  to  the  play  with  her  sister  : 
Miss  Jennings  had  excused  herself  under  pretence  of  in- 
disposition :  she  was  overjoyed  at  the  happy  commence- 


*  These  frolics  appear  to  have  been  not  unfreqnent  with  persons  of 
high  rank  at  this  period.  In  a  letter  from  Mr.  Henshaw  to  Sir 
Robert  Paston,  afterwards  Earl  of  Yarmouth,  dated  October  13,  1670, 
we  have  the  following  account :  "  La.st  week,  there  being  a  faire  neare 
Audley-end,  the  queen,  the  Dutchess  of  Richmond,  and  the  Dutchess  of 
Buckingham,  had  a  frolick  to  disguise  themselves  like  country  lasses, 
in  red  petticotes,  wastcotes,  &c.,  and  so  goe  see  the  faire.  Sir  Barnard 
Gascoign,  on  a  cart  jade,  rode  before  the  queen  ;  another  stranger  before 
the  Dutchess  of  Buckingham  ;  and  Mr.  Roper  before  Richmond.  They 
had  all  so  overdone  it  in  their  disguise,  and  looked  so  umch  more  like 
antiques  than  country  volk,  that,  as  soon  as  they  came  to  the  faire,  the 
people  began  to  goe  after  them  ;  but  the  queen  going  to  a  booth,  to  buy 
a  pair  of  yellow  stockings  for  her  sweet  hart,  and  vSir  Bernard  asking 
for  a  pair  of  gloves  sticht  with  blew,  for  his  sweet  hart,  they  were  soon, 
by  their  gebrish,  found  to  be  strangers,  which  drew  a  bigger  flock  about 
them.  One  amongst  them  had  seen  the  queen  at  dinner,  knew  her,  and 
was  proud  of  her  knowledge.  This  soon  brought  all  the  faire  into  a 
crowd  to  stare  at  the  queen.  Being  thus  discovered,  they,  as  soon  as 
they  could,  got  to  their  horses  ;  but  as  many  of  the  faire  as  had  horses 
got  up,  with  their  wives,  children,  sweet  harts,  or  neighbors,  behind 
them,  to  get  as  much  gape  as  they  could,  till  tliey  brought  them  to  the 
court  gate.  Thus,  by  ill  conduct,  was  a  merry  frolick  turned  into  a 
^&i\a.\\ce."—lve's  Select  Papers,  p.  39. 


292  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


merit  of  their  adventure  ;  for  they  had  disguised  them- 
selves, had  crossed  the  Park,  and  taken  their  hackney 
coach  at  Whitehall  gate,  without  the  least  accident. 
They  mutually  congratulated  each  other  upon  it,  and 
Miss  Price,  taking  a  beginning  so  prosperous  as  a  good 
omen  of  their  success,  asked  her  companion  what  they 
were  to  do  at  the  fortune-teller's,  and  what  they  should 
propose  to  him. 

Miss  Jennings  told  her  that,  for  her  part,  curiosity  was 
her  principal  inducement  for  going  thither ;  that,  how- 
ever, she  was  resolved  to  ask  him,  without  naming  any 
person,  why  a  man,  who  was  in  love  with  a  handsome 
young  lady,  was  not  urgent  to  marry  her,  since  this  was 
in  his  power  to  do,  and  by  so  doing  he  would  have  an 
opportunity  of  gratifying  his  desires.  Miss  Price  told 
her,  smiling,  that,  without  going  to  the  astrologer,  noth- 
ing was  more  easy  than  to  explain  the  enigma,  as  she 
herself  had  almost  given  her  a  solution  of  it  in  the  narra- 
tive of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland's  adventures. 

Having  by  this  time  nearly  arrived  at  the  playhouse, 
Miss  Price,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  said,  that  since 
fortune  favored  them,  a  fair  opportunity  was  now  offered 
to  signalize  their  courage,  which  was  to  go  and  sell 
oranges  in  the  very  playhouse,  in  the  sight  of  the  duchess 
and  the  whole  court.  The  proposal  being  worthy  of  the 
sentiments  of  the  one,  and  of  the  vivacity  of  the  other, 
they  immediately  alighted,  paid  off  their  hack,  and, 
running  through  the  midst  of  an  immense  number  of 
coaches,  with  great  difficulty  they  reached  the  playhouse 
door.  Sidney,  more  handsome  than  the  beautiful 
Adonis,  and  dressed  more  gay  than  usual,  alighted  just 
then  from  his  coach  :  Miss  Price  went  boldly  up  to  him, 
as  he  was  adjusting  his  curls  ;  but  he  was  too  much 
occupied  with  his  own  dear  self  to  attend  to  anything 
else,  and  so  passed  on  without  deigning  to  give  her  an 
answer.  Killegrew  came  next,  and  the  fair  Jennings, 
partly  encouraged  by  the  other's  pertness,  advanced 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


297 


was  engaged  in  a  squabble  with  some  blackguard  bojs 
who  had  gathered  round  his  coach  in  order  to  steal  the 
oranges:  from  words  they  came  to  blows:  the  two  nymphs 
saw  the  commencement  of  the  fra^'  as  they  were  return- 
ing to  the  coach,  after  having  abandoned  the  design  of 
going  to  the  fortune-teller's.  Their  coachman  being  a 
man  of  spirit,  it  was  with  great  difficulty  they  could  per- 
suade him  to  leave  their  oranges  to  the  mob,  that  they 
might  get  off  without  any  further  disturbance  :  having 
thus  regained  their  hack,  after  a  thousand  frights,  and 
after  having  received  an  abundant  share  of  the  most  low 
and  infamous  abuse  applied  to  them  during  the  fracas, 
they  at  length  reached  St.  James's,  vowing  never  more 
to  go  after  fortune-tellers,  through  so  many  dangers, 
terrors  and  alarms,  as  they  had  lately  undergone. 

Brounker,  who,  from  the  indifferent  opinion  he  enter- 
tained of  the  fair  sex,  would  have  staked  his  life  that 
Mi.ss  Jennings  did  not  return  from  this  expedition  in  the 
same  condition  .she  went,  kept  his  thoughts,  however,  a 
profound  secret  ;  since  it  would  have  afforded  him  the 
highest  satisfaction  to  have  seen  the  all-fortunate  Jermyn 
marn>-  a  little  street-walker,  who  pretended  to  pass  for  a 
pattern  of  chastity,  that  he  might,  the  day  after  his  mar- 
riage, congratulate  him  upon  his  virtuous  spouse  ;  but 
heaven  was  not  disposed  to  afford  him  that  satisfaction, 
as  will  appear  in  the  .sequel  of  these  memoirs. 

Miss  Hamilton  was  in  the  country,  as  we  before  men- 
tioned, at  a  relation's  :  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  bore 
this  short  ab.sence  of  hers  with  great  uneasines.s,  since 
.she  would  not  allow  him  permission  to  visit  her  there, 
upon  any  pretence  whatever ;  but  play,  which  was 
favorable  to  him,  was  no  small  relief  to  his  extreme 
impatience. 

Miss  Hamilton,  however,  at  last  returned.  INIrs.  We- 
tenhall  *  (for  that  was  the  name  of  her  relation)  would 


*  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Sir  Henry  Bediiigfield,  and  wife  of  Thomas 
Wetenhall,  of  Hextall  Court,  near  East  I'eckham,  in  the  county  of 


298 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


by  all  means  wait  tipon  her  to  lyondon,  in  appearance 
out  of  politeness;  for  ceremony,  carried  beyond  all  bear- 
ing, is  the  grand  characteristic  of  country  gentry  :  yet 
this  mark  of  civility  was  only  a  pretence  to  obtain  a 
peevish  husband's  consent  to  his  wife's  journey  to  town. 
Perhaps  he  would  have  done  himself  the  honor  of  con- 
ducting Miss  Hamilton  up  to  London  had  he  not  been 
employed  in  writing  some  remarks  upon  the  ecclesias- 
tical history,  a  work  in  which  he  had  long  been  engaged: 
the  ladies  were  more  civil  than  to  interrupt  him  in  his 
undertaking,  and  besides,  it  would  entirely  have  discon- 
certed all  Mrs.  Wetenhall's  schemes. 

This  lady  was  what  may  be  properly  called  a  beauty; 
entirely  English,  made  up  of  lilies  and  roses,  of  snow 
and  milk,  as  to  color  ;  and  of  wax,  with  respect  to  the 
arms,  hands,  neck,  and  feet,  but  all  this  without  either 
animation  or  air;  her  face  was  uncommonly  pretty;  but 
there  was  no  variety,  no  change  of  countenance  in  it  : 
one  would  have  thought  she  took  it  in  the  morning  out 
of  a  case,  in  order  to  put  it  up  again  at  night,  without 
using  it  in  the  smallest  degree  in  the  daytime.  What 
can  I  say  of  her  !  nature  had  formed  her  a  baby  from  her 
infancy,  and  a  baby  remained  till  death  the  fair  Mrs. 
Wetenhall.  Her  husband  had  been  destined  for  the 
church;  but  his  elder  brother  dying  just  at  the  time  he 
had  gone  through  his  studies  of  divinity,  instead  of  tak- 
ing orders,  he  came  to  England,  and  took  to  wife  Miss 
Bedingfield,  the  lady  of  whom  we  are  now  speaking. 

His  person  was  not  disagreeable,  but  he  had  a  serious 
contemplative  air,  very  apt  to  occasion  disgust  :  as  for 


Kent:. See  Collitis's  Baronetage,  p.  216.  The  family  of  Whetenhall, 
or  Whetnall,  was  possessed  of  the  estate  of  Hextall  Court  from  the 
time  of  Henry  VIII.  until  within  a  few  years  past,  when  one  of  them, 
Henry  Whetenhall,  Esq.,  alienated  it  to  John  Fane,  Earl  of  Westmore- 
land. Of  this  family  was  Edward  Whetenhall,  a  celebrated  polemical 
writer,  who,  in  1678,  was  consecrated  bishop  of  Corke  and  Ross. — See 
Wood's  Athence  Oxoniensis,vo\.  ii.,  p.  851,  998. 


MEMOIRS  OF 


COUNT 


GRAMMONT. 


299 


the  rest,  she  might  boast  of  having  one  of  the  greatest 
theologists  in  the  kingdom  for  her  hnsband  :  he  was  all 
day  poring  over  his  books,  and  went  to  bed  soon,  in 
order  to  rise  early  ;  so  that  his  wife  found  him  snoring 
when  she  came  to  bed,  and  when  he  arose  he  left  her 
there  sound  asleep;  his  conversation  at  table  would  ha\e 
been  very  brisk,  if  Mrs.  Wetenhall  had  been  as  great  a 
proficient  in  divinity,  or  as  great  a  lover  of  controversy, 
as  he  was  ;  but  being  neither  learned  in  the  former,  nor 
desirous  of  the  latter,  silence  reigned  at  their  table,  as 
absolutely  as  at  a  refectory. 

She  had  often  expressed  a  great  desire  to  see  London  ; 
but  though  they  were  only  distant  a  very  short  day's 
journey  from  it,  she  had  never  been  able  to  satisfy  her 
curiosity  ;  it  was  not  therefore  without  reason  that  she 
grew  weary  of  the  life  she  was  forced  to  lead  at  Peck- 
ham.  *  The  melancholy,  retired  situation  of  the  place 
was  to  her  insupportable;  and  as  she  had  the  folly,  inci- 
dent to  many  other  women,  of  believing  sterility  to  be  a 
kind  of  reproach,  she  was  very  much  hurt  to  see  that  she 
might  fall  under  that  suspicion  ;  for  she  was  persuaded, 
that  although  heaven  had  denied  her  children,  she  never- 
theless had  all  the  necessary  requisites  on  her  part,  if  it 
had  been  the  will  of  the  Lord.  This  had  occasioned  her 
to  make  some  reflections,  and  then  to  reason  upon  those 
reflections;  as  for  instance,  that  since  her  husband  chose 
ratlier  to  devote  himself  to  his  studies,  than  to  the 
duties  of  matrimony,  to  turn  over  musty  old  books, 
rather  than  attend  to  the  attractions  of  beauty,  and  to 
gratify  his  own  pleasures  rather  than  those  of  his  wife, 
it  might  be  permitted  her  to  relieve  some  necessitous 
lover,  in  neighborly  charity,  provided  she  could  do  it 


*  "  Peckhani  is  about  ten  iiiik-s  off  Tunbridjje  Wells.  Sir  William 
Twisden  has  an  ancient  mansion  here,  which  has  been  lent;  in  that 
family." — Burr's  History  of  Tuiibridge  Welh,  8vo.,  1766,  p.  237.  Mr. 
Hasted  says,  the  estate  was  j)urchased  by  Sir  William  Twisden  of  Henry 
Whetenhall,  Esq. — Hasted's  Kent,  vol.  ii.,  p.  274. 


300 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


conscientiously,  and  to  direct  her  inclinations  in  so  just 
a  manner,  that  the  evil  spirit  should  have  no  concern  in 
it.  Mr.  Wetenhall,  a  zealous  partisan  for  the  doctrine  of 
the  casuists,  would  not  perhaps  have  approved  of  these 
decisions;  but  he  was  not  consulted. 

The  greatest  misfortune  was,  that  neither  solitary 
Peckham,  nor  its  sterile  neighborhood,  presented  any 
expedients,  either  for  the  execution  of  the  aforementioned 
design,  or  for  the  relief  of  poor  Mrs.  Wetenhall:  she  was 
visibly  pining  away,  when,  through  fear  of  dying  either 
with  solitude  or  of  want,  she  had  recourse  to  Miss  Ham- 
ilton's commiseration. 

Their  first  acquaintance  was  formed  at  Paris,  whither 
Mr.  Wetenhall  had  taken  his  wife  half  a  year  after  they 
were  married,  on  a  journey  thither  to  buy  books  :  Miss 
Hamilton,  who  from  that  very  time  greatly  pitied  her, 
consented  to  pass  some  time  in  the  country  with  her,  in 
hopes  by  that  visit,  to  deliver  her,  for  a  short  time  at 
least,  out  of  her  captivity ;  which  project  succeeded 
according  to  her  wish. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  being  informed  of  the 
day  on  which  they  were  to  arrive,  borne  on  the  wings 
of  love  and  impatience,  had  engaged  George  Hamilton 
to  go  with  him,  and  meet  them  some  miles  out  of  Lon- 
don. The  equipage  he  had  prepared  for  the  purpose, 
corresponded  with  his  usual  magnificence  ;  and  on  such 
an  occasion,  we  may  reasonably  suppose  he  liad  not  neg- 
lected his  person  :  however,  with  all  his  impatience,  he 
checked  the  ardor  of  the  coachman,  through  fear  of  acci- 
dents, rightly  judging  that  upon  a  road  prudence  is 
preferable  to  eagerness.  The  ladies  at  length  appeared, 
and  Miss  Hamilton,  being  in  his  eyes,  ten  or  twelve 
times  more  handsome  than  before  her  departure  from 
London,  he  would  have  purchased  with  his  life  so  kind 
a  reception  as  she  gave  her  brother. 

Mrs.  Wetenhall  had  her  share  of  the  praises,  which  at 
this  interview  were  liberally  bestowed  upon  her  beauty. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMOXT. 


301 


for  which  her  beauty  was  very  thankful  to  those  who  did 
it  so  much  honor;  and  as  Hamilton  regarded  her  with  a 
tender  attention,  she  regarded  Hamilton  as  a  man  very 
well  qualified  for  putting  in  execution  the  little  projects 
she  had  concerted  with  her  conscience. 

As  soon  as  she  was  in  London,  her  head  was  almost 
turned,  through  an  excess  of  contentment  and  felicity  : 
everything  appeared  like  enchantment  to  her  in  this  su- 
perb cit\-  ;  more  particularly,  as  in  Paris  she  had  never 
seen  anything  farther  than  the  Rue  Saint  Jacques,  and 
a  few  booksellers'  shops.  ^liss  Hamilton  entertained 
her  at  her  own  house,  and  she  was  presented,  admired, 
and  well  received  at  both  courts. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  whose  gallantry  and 
magnificence  were  inexhaustible,  taking  occasion,  from 
this  fair  stranger's  arrival,  to  exhibit  his  grandeur, 
nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  balls,  concerts,  pla)  s,  excur- 
sions by  land  and  by  water,  splendid  collations  and 
sumptuous  entertainments  :  Mrs.  Wetenhall  was  trans- 
ported with  pleasures,  of  which  the  greatest  part  were 
entirely  new  to  her;  she  was  greatly  delighted  with 
all,  except  now  and  then  at  a  play,  when  tragedy  was 
acted,  which  she  confessed  she  thought  rather  wearisome: 
she  agreed,  however,  that  the  show  was  very  interesting, 
when  there  were  many  people  killed  upon  the  stage, 
but  thought  the  players  were  ver\-  fine  handsome  fellows, 
who  were  much  better  alive  than  dead. 

Hamilton,  upon  the  whole,  was  prett)'  well  treated  by 
her,  if  a  man  in  love,  who  is  never  satisfied  until  the 
completion  of  his  wishes,  could  confine  himself  within 
the  bounds  of  moderation  and  reason  :  he  used  all  his 
endeavors  to  determine  her  to  put  in  execution  the  proj- 
ects she  had  formed  at  Peckhani:  ]\Irs.  Wetenhall,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  much  pleased  with  him.  This  is  the 
Hamilton  who  ser\'ed  in  the  Frencli  army  with  distinc- 
tion; *  he  was  both  agreeable  and  handsome.    All  imag- 


I  apprehend  he  is  the  same  George  Hamilton  already  described, 


302 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


inable  opportimities  conspired  to  favor  the  establishment 
of  an  intimacy,  whose  commencement  had  been  so  brisk, 
that  in  all  probability  it  would  not  languish  for  a  con- 
clusion; but  the  more  he  pressed  her  to  it,  the  more  her 
resolution  began  to  fail,  and  regard  for  some  scruples, 
which  she  had  not  well  weighed,  kept  her  in  suspense  : 
there  was  reason  to  believe  that  a  little  perseverance 
would  have  removed  these  obstacles;  yet  this  at  the  pres- 
ent time  was  not  attempted.  Hamilton,  not  able  to  con- 
ceive what  could  prevent  her  from  completing  his 
happiness,  since  in  his  opinion  the  first  and  greatest 
difficulties  of  an  amour  were  already  overcome,  with 
respect  to  the  public,  resolved  to  abandon  her  to  her 
irresolutions,  instead  of  endeavoring  to  conquer  them  by 
a  more  vigorous  attack.  It  was  not  consistent  with 
reason,  to  desist  from  an  enterprise,  where  so  many  pros- 
pects of  success  presented  themselves,  for  such  inconsid- 
erable obstacles;  but  he  suffered  himself  to  be  intoxicated 
with  chimeras  and  visions,  which  unseasonably  cooled 
the  vigor  of  his  pursuit,  and  led  him  astray  in  another 
unprofitable  undertaking. 

I  know  not  whether  poor  Wetenhall  took  the  blame 
itpon  herself ;  but  it  is  certain,  she  was  extremely  morti- 
fied upon  it.  Soon  after  being  obliged  to  return  to  her 
cabbages  and  turkeys  at  Peckham,  she  had  almost  gone 
distracted :  that  residence  appeared  a  thousand  times 
more  dreadful  to  her,  since  she  had  been  initiated  into 
the  amusements  of  London  ;  hnt  as  the  queen  was  to  set 
out  within  a  month  for  Tunbridge  Wells,  she  was  obliged 
to  yield  to  necessity,  and  to  return  to  the  philosopher, 
Wetenhall,  with  the  consolation  of  having  engaged  Miss 
Hamilton  to  come  and  live  at  her  house,  which  was 
within  ten  or  twelve  miles  of  Tunbridge,  as  long  as  the 
court  remained  there. 


who  married  Miss  Jenuiugs,  aud  not  the  author  of  this  work,  as  Lord 
Orford  supposes. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


303 


Miss  Hamilton  promised  not  to  abandon  her  in  her 
retirement,  and  fnrther  en<jaged  to  bring  the  Chevalier 
de  Granimont  along  with  her,  whose  humor  and  con- 
versation extremely  delighted  her.  The  Chevalier  de 
Grammont,  who  on  all  occasions  started  agreeable 
raillery,  engaged  on  his  part  to  bring  George  Hamilton, 
which  words  overwhelmed  her  with  blushes. 

The  court  set  out  soon  after*  to  pass  about  two  months 
in  the  place  of  all  Europe  the  most  rural  and  simple,  and 
yet,  at  the  same  time,  the  most  entertaining  and  agree- 
able. 

Tunbridge  is  the  same  distance  from  London,  that 
Fontainebleau  is  from  Paris,  and  is,  at  the  season,  the 
general  rendezvous  of  all  the  gay  and  handsome  of  both 
sexes.  The  company,  though  always  numerous,  is 
always  select :  since  those  who  repair  thither  for  diver- 
sion, ever  exceed  the  number  of  those  who  go  thither 
for  health.  Everything  there  breathes  mirth  and  pleas- 
ure :  constraint  is  banished,  familiarity  is  established 
upon  the  first  acquaintance,  and  joy  and  pleasure  are  the 
sole  sovereigns  of  the  place. 

The  company  are  accommodated  with  lodgings  in 
little,  clean  and  convenient  habitations,  that  lie  strag- 
gling and  separated  from  each  other,  a  mile  and  a  half 
all  round  the  Wells,  where  the  company  meet  in  the 
morning :  this  place  consists  of  a  long  walk,  shaded  by 
spreading  trees,  luider  which  they  walk  while  they  are 
drinking  the  waters :  on  one  side  of  this  walk  is  a  long 
row  of  shops,  plentifully  stocked  with  all  manner  of 
toys,  lace,  gloves,  stockings,  and  where  there  is  raffling, 
as  at  Paris,  in  the  Foire  de  Saint  Germain :  on  the  other 
side  of  the  walk  is  the  market ;  and,  as  it  is  the  custom 
here  for  every  person  to  buy  their  own  provisions,  care 
is  taken  that  nothing  offensive  appears  on  the  stalls. 

*  This  was  in  1664,  prohabU'  as  soon  as  the  queen  was  sufficiently 
recovered  from  the  illness  mentioned  in  note  on  p.  153.  See  Burr's 
History  of  Tunbridge  Wells,  p.  43. 


304 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Here  young,  fair,  fresh-colored  country  girls,  with  clean 
linen,  small  straw  hats,  and  neat  shoes  and  stockings, 
sell  game,  vegetables,  flowers  and  fruit :  here  one  may 
live  as  one  pleases  :  here  is,  likewise,  deep  play,  and  no 
want  of  amorous  intrigues.  As  soon  as  the  evening 
comes,  ever\'  one  quits  his  little  palace  to  assemble  at 
the  bowling-green,  where,  in  the  open  air,  those  who 
choose,  dance  upon  a  turf  more  soft  and  smooth  than  the 
finest  carpet  in  the  world. 

Lord  Muskerry*  had,  within  two  or  three  short  miles 
of  Tunbridge,  a  very  handsome  seat  called  Summer-hill ; 
Miss  Hamilton,  after  having  spent  eight  or  ten  days  at 
Peckham,  could  not  excuse  herself  from  passing  the  re- 
mainder of  the  season  at  his  house  ;  and,  having  obtained 
leave  of  Mr.  Wetenhall,  that  his  lady  should  accompany 
her,  they  left  the  melancholy  residence  of  Peckham,  and 
its  tiresome  master,  and  fixed  their  little  court  at  Sum- 
mer-hill, f 


*  Eldest  son  to  the  Earl  of  Clancarty;  "a  young  man,"  saj-s  Lord 
Clarendon,  "of  extraordinary  courage  and  expectation,  who  had  been 
colonel  of  a  regiment  of  foot  in  Flanders,  under  the  duke,  and  had  the 
general  estimation  of  an  excellent  officer.  He  was  of  the  duke's  bed- 
chamber ;  and  the  earl  (/.  e.  of  Falmouth)  and  he  were,  at  that  time,  so 
near  the  duke,  that  His  Highness  was  all  covered  with  their  blood. 
There  fell,  likewise,  in  the  same  ship,  and  at  the  same  instant,  Mr. 
Richard  Boyle,  a  younger  son  of  the  Earl  of  Burlington,  a  youth  of 
great  hope." — Continuation  of  Clarendon'' s  Life,  p.  266. 

t  Lord  Orford  supposes  this  place  came  to  Lord  Muskerry  through 
the  means  of  his  elder  brother :  but  in  this  he  is  mistaken,  as  it  be- 
longed to  him  in  right  of  his  wife,  the  on\y  daughter  of  Lord  Clan- 
rickard.  This  seat  is  about  five  miles  from  the  Wells,  and  was  once 
the  residence  and  property  of  Sir  Francis  Walsingham,  from  whom  it 
descended  to  his  daughter  F^rances,  who  married  first  Sir  Philip  Sydnej- ; 
secondly,  the  unfortunate  Robert  Devereux,  Earl  of  Essex  :  and  lastly, 
Richard  de  Burgh,  Marquis  of  Clanrickard.  In  Walkei^s  History  of 
Independence,  we  are  told,  that  '  Somer-hill,  a  pleasant  seat,  worth 
one  thousand  pounds  a-year,  belonging  to  the  Earl  of  St.  Albans,  (who 
was  also  Marquis  of  Clanrickard,)  is  given  by  the  junta  to  the  blood- 
hound Bradshaw  :  So  he  hath  warned  the  Countesse  of  Leicester,  who 
formerly  had  it  in  possession,  to  raise  a  debt  of  three  thousand  pounds, 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT.  305 


They  went  every  day  to  court,  or  the  court  came  to 
them.  The  queen  even  surpassed  her  usual  attentions 
in  inventing  and  supporting  entertainments  :  she  'en- 
deavored to  increase  the  natural  ease  and  freedom  of 
Tunbridge,  by  dispensing  with,  rather  than  requiring, 
those  ceremonies  that  were  due  to  her  presence  ;  and, 
confining  in  the  bottom  of  her  heart  that  grief  and  un- 
easiness she  could  not  overcome,  she  saw  Miss  Stewart 
triumphantly  possess  the  affections  of  the  king,  without 
manifesting  the  least  uneasiness. 

Never  did  love  see  his  empire  in  a  more  flourishing 
condition  than  on  this  spot :  those  who  were  smitten 
before  they  came  to  it,  felt  a  mighty  augmentation  of 
their  flame;  and  those  who  seemed  the  least  susceptible 
of  love  laid  aside  their  natural  ferocity,  to  act  in  a  new 
character.  For  the  truth  of  the  latter,  we  shall  only 
relate  the  change  which  soon  appeared  in  the  conduct  of 
Prince  Rupert.* 


preteuded  due  to  her  from  the  said  earle,  (which  she  had  already 
raised  fourfold,  )  to  quiet  the  possession  against  our  lord's  day  next." 
At  the  restoration  it  seems  to  have  returned  to  its  original  owner. 
History  of  Kent,  vol.  ii.,  p.  341. 

*  Lord  Orford's  contrast  to  this  character  of  Prince  Rupert  is  too  just 
to  be  here  omitted.  "  Born  with  the  taste  of  an  uncle  whom  his  sword 
was  not  fortunate  in  defending,  Prince  Rupert  was  fond  oftho.se  sciences 
which  soften  and  adorn  a  hero's  private  hours,  and  knew  how  to  mix 
them  with  his  minutes  of  amusement,  without  dedicating  his  life  to 
their  pursuit,  like  us,  who,  wanting  capacity  for  momentous  views, 
make  serious  study  of  what  is  only  the  transitory  occupation  of  a  genius. 
Had  the  court  of  the  first  Charles  been  peaceful,  how  agreeably  had 
the  prince's  congenial  propensity  flattered  and  confirmed  the  inclina- 
tion of  his  uncle !  How  the  muse  of  arts  would  have  repaid  the 
patronage  of  the  monarch,  when,  for  his  first  artist,  she  would  have 
presented  him  with  his  nephew  !  How  different  a  figure  did  the  same 
prince  make  in  a  reign  of  dissimilar  complexion  !  The  philosophic 
warrior,  who  could  relax  himself  into  the  ornament  of  a  refined  court, 
was  thought  a  savage  mechanic,  when  courtiers  were  only  voluptuous 
wits.  Let  me  transcribe  a  picture  of  Prince  Rupert,  drawn  by  a  man 
who  was  far  from  having  the  lea.st  portion  of  wit  in  that  age,  who  was 
superior  to  its  iudelicacj-,  and  who  yet  was  so  overborne  by  its  preju- 
20 


306 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


He  was  brave  and  courageous,  even  to  rashness  ;  but 
cross-grained  and  incorrigibly  obstinate  :  his  genius  was 
fertile  in  mathematical  experiments,  and  he  possessed 
some  knowledge  of  chemistry:  he  was  polite  even  to  ex- 
cess, unseasonably;  but  haughty  and  even  brutal,  when  he 
ought  to  have  been  gentle  and  courteous:  he  was  tall  and 
his  manners  were  ungracious:  he  had  a  dry  hard-favored 
visage,  and  a  stern  look,  even  when  he  wished  to  please; 
but  when  he  was  out  of  humor,  he  was  the  true  picture  of 
reproof 

The  queen  had  sent  for  the  players,  either  that  there 
might  be  no  intermission  in  the  diversions  of  the  place, 
or,  perhaps,  to  retort  upon  INIiss  Stewart,  by  the  presence 
of  Nell  Gw)  n,  part  of  the  imeasiness  she  felt  from  hers. 
Prince  Rupert  found  charms  in  the  person  of  another 
player  called  Hughes,*  who  brought  down  and  greatly 
siibdued.  his  natural  fierceness.  From  this  time,  adieu 
alembics,  crucibles,  furnaces,  and  all  the  black  furniture 

dices,  that  he  had  the  complaisance  to  ridicule  virtue,  merit,  talents. 
— But  Prince  Rupert,  alas!  was  an  awkward  lover!"  Lord  Orford 
here  inserts  the  character  in  the  text,  and  then  adds,  "  What  pity  that 
we,  who  wish  to  transmit  this  prince's  resemblance  to  posterity  on  a 
fairer  canvas,  have  none  of  these  inimitable  colors  to  efface  the  harsher 
likeness  !  We  can  but  oppose  facts  to  wit,  truth  to  satire. — How  un- 
equal the  pencils  !  yet  what  these  lines  cannot  do,  they  may  suggest : 
the}-  maj-  induce  the  reader  to  reflect,  that  if  the  prince  was  defective 
in  the  transient  varnish  of  a  court,  he  at  least  was  adorned  by  the  arts 
with  that  polish  which  alone  can  make  a  court  attract  the  attention  of 
subseqvient  ages." — Catalogue  of  Engravers,  p.  135,  8vo.  ed. 

*  Mrs.  Hughes  was  one  of  the  actresses  belonging  to  the  king's 
company,  and  one  of  the  earliest  female  performers.  According  to 
Dowues,  she  commenced  her  theatrical  career  after  the  opening  of 
Drury  Lane  theatre,  in  1663.  .She  appears  to  have  been  the  first  female 
representative  of  De.sdemona.  B}-  Prince  Rupert  she  had  a  daughter, 
named  Ruperta,  married  to  Lieutenant-general  Howe,  who  survived 
her  husband  man}'  years,  dying  at  .Somerset  house,  about  the  year  1740. 
For  Mrs.  Hughes,  Prince  Rupert  bought  the  magnificent  seat  of  Sir 
Nicholas  Crispe,  near  Hammersmith,  now  the  residence  of  the  Mar- 
grave of  Brandenburgh,  which  cost  ^25,000  the  building.  From  the 
dramatis  personie  to  Tom  Essence,  licensed  1676,  we  find  Mrs.  Hughes 
was  then  on  the  stage,  and  in  the  duke's  company. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


307 


of  the  forges  :  a  complete  farewell  to  all  mathematical 
iustrunieiits  and  chemical  speculations  :  sweet  powder 
and  essences  were  now  the  only  ingredients  that  occti- 
pied  any  share  of  his  attention.  The  impertinent  gipsy 
chose  to  be  attacked  in  form;  and  proudly  refusing 
money,  that,  in  the  end,  she  might  sell  her  favors  at  a 
dearer  rate,  she  caused  the  poor  prince  to  act  a  part  so 
unnatural,  that  he  no  longer  appeared  like  the  same 


MRS.  HUGHES. 


person.  The  king  was  greatly  pleased  with  this  event, 
for  which  great  rejoicings  were  made  at  Tunbridge ;  but 
nobody  was  bold  enough  to  make  it  the  subject  of  satire, 
though  the  same  constraint  was  not  ob.served  with  other 
ridiculous  personages. 

There  was  dancing  every  day  at  the  queen's  apart- 
ments, because  the  physicians  recommended  it,  and  no 
person  thoiight  it  amiss  :  for  even  those  who  cared  the 
least  for  it,  chose  that  exercise  to  digest  the  waters  rather 


308 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


than  walking.  Lord  Muskerry  thought  himself  secure 
against  his  lady's  rage  for  dancing;  for,  although  he  was 
ashamed  of  it,  the  princess  of  Bab}  lon  was,  by  the  grace 
of  God,  six  or  seven  months  advanced  in  pregnancy;  and 
to  complete  her  misfortune,  the  child  had  fallen  all  on 
one  side,  so  that  even  Euclid  would  have  been  puzzled 
to  say  what  her  figure  was.  The  disconsolate  lady,  see- 
ing Miss  Hamilton  and  Mrs.  Wetenhall  set  out  every 
morning,  sometimes  on  horseback  and  sometimes  in  a 
coach,  but  ever  attended  by  a  gallant  troop  to  conduct 
them  to  court,  and  to  convey  them  back,  she  fancied  a 
thousand  times  more  delights  at  Tunbridge  than  in 
reality  there  were,  and  she  did  not  cease  in  her  imagina- 
tion, to  dance  over  at  Summer-hill  all  the  country  dances 
which  she  thought  had  been  danced  at  Tunbridge.  She 
could  no  longer  support  the  racking  torments  which 
disturbed  her  mind,  when  relenting  heaven,  out  of  pity 
to  her  pains  and  sufferings,  caused  Lord  Muskerry  to 
repair  to  London,  and  kept  him  there  two  whole  days  : 
as  soon  as  ever  he  had  turned  his  back,  the  Babylonian 
princess  declared  her  resolution  to  make  a  trip  to  court. 

She  had  a  domestic  chaplain  who  did  not  want  sense, 
and  Lord  Muskerry,  for  fear  of  accidents,  had  recom- 
mended her  to  the  wholesome  counsels  and  good  prayers 
of  this  prudent  divine;  but  in  vain  were  all  his  preach- 
ings and  exhortations  to  stay  at  home;  in  vain  did  he  set 
before  her  eyes  her  husband's  commands,  and  the  dan- 
gers to  which  she  would  expose  herself  in  her  present 
condition;  he  likewise  added  that  her  pregnancy,  being 
a  particular  blessing  from  heaven,  she  ought  therefore 
to  be  so  much  the  more  careful  for  its  preservation,  since 
it  cost  her  husband,  perhaps,  more  trouble  than  she  was 
aware  of,  to  obtain  it.  These  remonstrances  were  alto- 
gether ineffectual :  Miss  Hamilton  and  her  cousin  Weten- 
hall, having  the  complaisance  to  confirm  her  in  her  res- 
olution, they  assisted  in  dressing  her  the  next  morning, 
and  set  out  along  with  her;  all  their  skill  and  dexterity 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


309 


were  requisite  to  reduce  her  shape  into  some  kind  of 
symmetry;  but,  having  at  last  pinned  a  small  cushion 
under  her  petticoat  on  the  right  side,  to  counteract  the 
untoward  appearance  the  little  infant  occasioned  by 
throwing  itself  on  the  left,  they  almost  split  their  sides 
with  laughter,  assuring  her  at  the  same  time  that  she 
looked  perfectly  charming. 

As  soon  as  she  appeared,  it  was  generally  believed 
that  she  had  dressed  herself  in  a  farthingale,  in  order 
to  make  her  court  to  the  queen  ;  but  every  person  was 
pleased  at  her  arrival:  those  who  were  unacquainted  with 
the  circumstances  assured  her  in  earnest  that  she  was 
pregnant  with  twins  ;  and  the  queen,  who  envied  her 
condition,  notwithstanding  the  ridiculous  appearance 
she  then  made,  being  made  acquainted  with  the  mo- 
tive of  her  journey,  was  determined  to  gratify  her  in- 
clinations. 

As  soon  as  the  hour  for  country  dances  arrived,  her 
cousin  Hamilton  was  appointed  her  partner  :  she  made 
some  faint  excuses  at  first  on  account  of  the  inconvenient 
situation  she  was  then  in  :  but  soon  suffered  them  to  be 
overcome,  in  order,  as  she  said,  to  show  her  duty  to  the 
queen  ;  and  never  did  a  woman  in  this  world  enjoy  such 
complete  satisfaction. 

We  have  already  observed  that  the  greatest  prosperity 
is  liable  to  the  greatest  change  :  Lady  Muskerry,  trussed 
up  as  she  was,  seemed  to  feel  no  manner  of  uneasiness 
from  the  motion  in  dancing;  on  the  contrary,  being  only 
apprehensive  of  the  presence  of  her  husband,  which 
would  have  destroyed  all  her  happiness,  she  danced 
with  uncommon  briskness,  lest  her  ill  stars  should  bring 
him  back  before  she  had  fully  satisfied  herself  with  it. 
In  the  midst,  therefore,  of  her  capering  in  this  indiscreet 
manner,  her  cushion  came  loose,  without  her  perceiving 
it,  and  fell  to  the  ground  in  the  very  middle  of  the  first 
round.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who  watched  her, 
took  it  up  instantly,  wrapped  it  up  in  his  coat,  and, 


310 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


mimicking  the  cries  of  a  new-born  infant,  he  went  about 
inquiring  for  a  nurse  for  the  young  Muskerry  among  the 
piaids  of  honor. 

This  buffoonery,  joined  to  the  strange  figure  of  the 
poor  lady,  had  ahnost  thrown  Miss  Stewart  into  h)  S- 
terics  ;  for  the  princess  of  Babylon,  after  this  accident, 
was  quite  flat  on  one  side,  and  immoderatel}-  protuberant 
on  the  other.  All  those  who  had  before  suppressed  their 
inclinations  to  laugh  now  gave  themselves  free  scope, 
when  they  saw  that  Miss  Stewart  was  ready  to  split  her 
sides.  The  poor  lady  was  greatly  disconcerted  :  every 
person  was  officious  to  console  her  ;  but  the  queen,  who 
inwardly  laughed  more  heartily  than  any,  pretended  to 
disapprove  of  their  taking  such  liberties. 

Whilst  Miss  Hamilton  and  Mrs.  Wetenhall  endeavored 
to  refit  Lady  Muskerry  in  another  room,  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  told  the  king  that,  if  the  physicians  would 
permit  a  little  exercise  immediately  after  a  delivery,  the 
best  way  to  recover  Lady  Muskerry  was  to  renew  the 
dance  as  soon  as  ever  her  infant  was  replaced  ;  this  ad- 
vice was  approved,  and  accordingly  put  in  execution. 
The  queen  proposed,  as  soon  as  she  appeared,  a  second 
round  of  country-dances  ;  and  Lady  Muskerry  accept- 
ing the  offer,  the  remedy  had  its  desired  effect,  and  en- 
tirely removed  every  remembrance  of  her  late  mishap. 

Whilst  these  things  were  passing  at  the  king's  court, 
that  of  the  Duke  of  York  took  a  journey  on  the  other 
side  of  London ;  *  the  pretence  of  this  journey  was  to 


*  In  Sir  John  Reresby's  Memoirs,  8vo.,  1735,  p.  11,  sub  anno  1665,  it 
is  said,  Aug.  5  :  "  His  Royal  Highness  the  duke  and  his  duchess  came 
down  to  York,  where  it  was  obser\-ed  that  Mr.  Sidnej-,  the  handsomest 
j'outh  of  his  time,  and  of  the  duke's  bedchamber,  was  greatly  in  love 
with  the  duchess  ;  and  indeed  he  might  well  be  excused  ;  for  the  duchess, 
daughter  to  Chancellor  Hyde,  was  a  very  handsome  personage,  and  a 
woman  of  fine  wit.  The  duchess,  on  her  part,  seemed  kind  to  him, 
but  very  innocently  ;  but  he  had  the  misfortune  to  be  banished  the 
court  afterwards,  for  another  reason,  as  was  reported."  Burnet  men- 
tions this  transaction,  and  insinuates  that  to  this  cause  is  to  be  ascribed 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


311 


visit  the  county  whose  name  he  bore  ;  btit  love  was  the 
real  motive.  The  duchess,  since  her  elevation,  had  con- 
ducted herself  with  such  prudence  and  circumspection 
as  could  not  be  sufficiently  admired:  such  were  her  man- 
ners, and  such  the  general  estimation  in  which  she  was 
held,  that  she  appeared  to  have  found  out  the  secret  of 
pleasing  every  one  ;  a  secret  yet  more  rare  than  the 
grandeur  to  which  she  had  been  raised  :  but,  after  hav- 
ing gained  universal  esteem,  she  was  desirous  of  being 
more  particularly  beloved  ;  or,  more  properly  speaking, 
malicious  Cupid  assaulted  her  heart,  in  spite  of  the 
discretion,  prudence  and  reason  with  which  she  had 
fortified  it. 

In  vain  had  she  said  to  herself  a  hundred  times,  that 
if  the  duke  had  been  so  kind  as  to  do  her  justice  by  fall- 
ing in  love  with  her,  he  had  done  her  too  much  honor 
by  making  her  his  wife  ;  that  with  respect  to  his  incon- 
stant disposition,  which  estranged  him  from  her,  she 
ought  to  bear  it  with  patience,  until  it  pleased  heaven  to 
produce  a  change  in  his  conduct ;  that  the  frailties  on 
his  part,  which  might  to  her  appear  injurious,  would 
never  justify  in  her  the  least  deviation  from  her  duty  ; 
and,  as  resentment  was  still  less  allowable,  she  ought  to 
endeavor  to  regain  him  by  a  conduct  entirely  opposite  to 
his  own.  In  vain  was  it,  as  we  have  said  before,  that 
she  had  long  resisted  L,ove  and  his  emissaries  by  the  help 
of  these  maxims  :  how  solid  soever  reason,  and  however 
obstinate  wisdom  and  virtue  may  be,  there  are  yet  cer- 
tain attacks  which  tire  by  their  length,  and,  in  the  end, 
subdue  both  reason  and  virtue  itself 

The  Duchess  of  York  was  one  of  the  highest  feeders  in 
England  :  as  this  was  an  unforbidden  pleasure  she  in- 
dulged herself  in  it,  as  an  indemnification  for  other  self- 
denials.    It  was  really  an  edifying  sight  to  see  her  at 


the  duchess's  conversion  to  popen-. — See  Burnet's  History  of  his  Own 
Times,  vol.  i.,  p.  318. 


312 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


table.  The  duke,  on  the  contrary,  being  incessantly  in 
the  hurry  of  new  fancies,  exhausted  himself  by  his  in- 
constancy, and  was  gradually  wasting  away  ;  whilst  the 
poor  princess,  gratifying  her  good  appetite,  grew  so  fat 
and  plump  that  it  was  a  blessing  to  see  her.  It  is  not 
easy  to  determine  how  long  things  would  have  con- 
tinued in  this  situation,  if  Love,  who  was  resolved  to 
have  satisfaction  for  her  late  conduct,  so  opposite  to  the 
former,  had  not  emplo}-ed  artifice  as  well  as  force  to  dis- 
turb her  repose. 

He  at  first  let  loose  upon  her  resentment  and  jealousy 
two  mortal  enemies  to  all  tranquillity  and  happiness.  A 
tall  creature,  pale-faced,  and  nothing  but  skin  and  bone, 
named  Churchill,*  whom  she  hjd  taken  for  a  maid  of 
honor,  became  the  object  of  her  jealousy,  because  she 
was  then  the  object  of  the  duke's  affection.  The  court 
was  not  able  to  comprehend  how,  after  having  been  in 
love  with  Lady  Chesterfield,  Miss  Hamilton,  and  Miss 
Jennings,  he  could  have  any  inclination  for  such  a 
creature  ;  but  they  soon  perceived  that  something  more 
than  unaccountable  variety  had  a  great  share  in  effecting 
this  conquest. 

The  duchess  beheld  with  indignation  a  choice  which 
seemed  to  debase  her  own  merit  in  a  much  greater  de- 
gree than  any  of  the  former ;  at  the  very  instant  that  in- 
dignation and  jealousy  began  to  provoke  her  spleen, 


*  Miss  Arabella  Churchill,  daughter  of  Sir  Winston  Churchill  of 
Wotton  Basset,  in  the  county  of  Wilts,  and  sister  to  the  celebrated 
John,  Duke  of  Marlborough.  She  was  born  1648.  By  the  Duke  of 
York  she  was  mother  of,  i,  James,  Duke  of  Berwick,  ;  2,  Henry  Fitz- 
James,  commonly  called  the  Grand  Prior,  born  1673,  who  was,  after 
the  revolution,  created  by  his  father  Duke  of  Albemarle,  and  died  1702; 
3,  Henrietta,  born  1670,  married  to  Lord  Waldegrave,  and  died  1730. 
Miss  Churchill  afterwards  became  the  wife  of  Charles  Godfrey,  Esq., 
clerk-comptroller  of  the  green  cloth,  and  master  of  the  jewel  office,  by 
whom  she  had  two  daughters  ;  one,  Charlotte,  married  to  Lord  Fal- 
mouth ;  and  the  other,  Elizabeth,  to  Edmund  Dunch,  Esq.  IMrs.  God- 
frey died  in  May,  1730,  at  the  age  of  82. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


313 


perfidious  Cupid  threw  in  the  way  of  her  passions  and 
resentments  the  amiable,  handsome  Sidney  ;  and,  whilst 
he  kept  her  eyes  fixed  upon  his  personal  perfections, 
diverted  her  attention  from  perceiving  the  deficiency  of 
his  mental  accomplishments :  she  was  wounded  before 
she  was  aware  of  her  danger  ;  but  the  good  opinion 
Sidney  had  of  his  own  merit  did  not  suffer  him  long  to 
be  ignorant  of  such  a  glorious  conquest ;  and,  in  order 
more  effectually  to  secure  it,  his  eyes  rashly  answered 
everything  which  those  of  her  Royal  Highness  had  the 
kindness  to  tell  him,  whilst  his  personal  accomplish- 
ments were  carefully  heightened  by  all  the  advantages 
of  dress  and  show. 

The  duchess,  foreseeing  the  consequences  of  such  an 
engagement,  strongly  combated  the  inclination  that 
hurried  her  away ;  but  Miss  Hobart,  siding  with  that 
inclination,  argued  the  matter  with  her  scruples,  and,  in 
the  end,  really  vanquished  them.  This  girl  had  in- 
sinuated herself  into  her  Royal  Highness' s  confidence  by 
a  fimd  of  news  with  which  she  was  provided  the  whole 
year  round  :  the  coi;rt  and  the  city  supplied  her  ;  nor  was 
it  very  material  to  her  whether  her  stories  were  true  or 
false,  her  chief  care  being  that  they  should  prove  agree- 
able to  her  mistress  :  she  knew,  likewise,  how  to  gratify 
her  palate,  and  constantly  provided  a  variety  of  those 
dishes  and  liquors  which  she  liked  best.  These  quali- 
fications liad  rendered  her  necessary  ;  but,  desirous  of 
being  still  more  so,  and  having  perceived  both  the  airs 
that  Sidney  gave  himself,  and  what  was  passing  in  the 
heart  of  her  mistress,  the  cunning  Hobart  took  the 
liberty  of  telling  her  Royal  Highness  that  this  un- 
fortunate youth  was  pining  away  solely  on  her  account  ; 
that  it  was  a  thousand  pities  a  man  of  his  figure  should 
lose  the  respect  for  her  which  was  most  certainly  her 
due,  merely  because  she  had  reduced  him  to  such  a 
state  that  he  could  no  longer  preserve  it  ;  that  he  was 
gradually  dying  away  on  her  account,  in  the  sight  of 


314 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


the  whole  court ;  that  his  situation  would  soon  be  gener- 
ally remarked,  except  she  made  use  of  the  proper  means 
to  prevent  it ;  that,  in  her  opinion,  her  Royal  Highness 
ought  to  pity  the  miserable  situation  into  which  her 
charms  had  reduced  him,  and  to  endeavor  to  alleviate 
his  pain  in  some  way  or  other.  The  duchess  asked  her 
what  she  meant  by  "endeavoring  to  alleviate  his  pain 
in  some  way  or  other."  "  I  mean,  madam,"  answered 
Miss  Hobart,  "that,  if  either  his  person  be  disagreeable, 
or  his  passion  troublesome,  you  will  give  him  his  dis- 
charge ;  or,  if  you  choose  to  retain  him  in  your  service, 
as  all  the  princesses  in  the  world  would  do  in  your  place, 
you  will  permit  me  to  give  him  directions  from  you  for 
his  future  conduct,  mixed  with  a  few  grains  of  hope,  to 
prevent  his  entirely  losing  his  senses,  until  you  find  a 
projDcr  occasion  }ourself  to  acquaint  him  with  your 
wishes."  "What!"  said  the  duchess,  "would  you 
advise  me,  Hobart — }-ou,  who  really  love  me — to  engage 
in  an  affair  of  this  nature,  at  the  expense  of  my  honor, 
and  the  hazard  of  a  thousand  inconveniences  !  If  such 
frailties  are  sometimes  excusable,  they  certainly  are  not 
so  in  the  high  station  in  which  I  am  placed  ;  and  it 
woiild  be  an  ill-requital  on  my  part  for  his  goodness  who 

raised  me  to  the  rank  I  now  fill,  to  "  "All  this  is 

very  fine,"  interrupted  Miss  Hobart:  "but  is  it  not 
very  well  known  that  he  only  married  )  ou  because  he 
was  iniportiuied  so  to  do?  Since  that  I  refer  to  yourself 
whether  he  has  ever  restrained  his  inclination  a  single 
moment,  giving  you  the  most  convincing  proofs  of  the 
change  that  has  taken  place  in  his  heart,  by  a  thousand 
provoking  infidelities?  Is  it  still  your  intention  to  per- 
severe in  a  state  of  indolence  and  humility,  whilst  the 
duke,  after  having  received  the  favors,  or  suffered  the 
repulses,  of  all  the  coquettes  in  England,  pays  his 
addresses  to  the  maids  of  honor,  one  after  the  other,  and 
at  present  places  his  whole  ambition  and  desires  in  the 
conquest  of  that  ugly  skeleton,  Churchill?  What! 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


315 


Madam,  must  then  your  prime  of  life  be  spent  in  a  sort 
of  widowhood,  in  deploring  your  misfortunes,  without 
ever  being  permitted  to  make  use  of  any  remedy  that 
may  offer?  A  woman  must  be  endowed  with  insuper- 
able patience,  or  with  an  inexhaustible  degree  of  resig- 
nation, to  bear  this.  Can  a  husband,  who  disregards 
you  both  night  and  day,  really  suppose,  because  his  wife 
eats  and  drinks  heartily,  as,  God  be  thanked,  your  Royal 
Highness  does,  that  she  wants  nothing  else  than  to  sleep 
well  too?  Faith,  such  conduct  is  too  bad:  I  therefore 
once  more  repeat  that  there  is  not  a  princess  in  the  uni- 
verse who  would  refuse  the  homage  of  a  man  like 
Sidne)-,  when  her  husband  pays  his  addresses  else- 
where. ' ' 

These  reasons  were  certainly  not  moralh'  good  ;  but 
had  they  been  still  worse  the  duchess  would  have  yielded 
to  them,  so  much  did  her  heart  act  in  concert  with  Miss 
Hobart,  to  overthrow  her  discretion  and  prudence. 

This  intrigue  began  at  the  very  time  that  Miss  Hobart 
advised  Miss  Temple  not  to  give  any  encouragement  to 
the  addresses  of  the  handsome  Sidney.  As  for  him,  no 
sooner  was  he  informed  by  the  confidante  Hobart  that 
the  goddess  accepted  his  adoration  than  he  immediately 
began  to  be  particularly  reserved  and  circumspect  in  his 
behavior,  in  order  to  divert  the  attention  of  the  public  ; 
but  the  public  is  not  so  easily  deceived  as  some  people 
imagine. 

As  there  were  too  many  spies,  too  many  inquisitive 
people  and  critics,  in  a  niimerous  court,  residing  in  the 
midst  of  a  populous  city,  the  duchess  to  avoid  exposing 
the  inclinations  of  her  heart  to  the  .scrutiny  of  so  many 
incjuisitors,  engaged  the  Duke  of  York  to  undertake  the 
journey  before  mentioned,  whilst  the  queen  and  her 
court  were  at  Tunbridge. 

This  conduct  was  prudent;  and,  if  agreeable  to  her, 
was  far  from  displeasing  to  any  of  her  court,  except  Miss 
Jennings :  Jermyn  was  not  of  the  party  ;  and,  in  her 


316 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Opinion,  every  part}-  was  insipid  in  which  he  was  not 
one  of  the  company.  He  had  engaged  himself  in  an 
enterprise  above  his  strength,  in  laying  a  wager  which 
the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  had  laid  before,  and  lost 
He  betted  five  hundred  guineas  that  he  would  ride 
twenty  miles  in  one  hour  upon  the  same  horse,  in  the 
high  road.  The  day  he  had  fixed  upon  for  his  race  was 
the  very  same  in  which  Miss  Jennings  went  to  the  for- 
tune-teller's. 

Jermyn  was  more  fortunate  than  her  in  this  under- 
taking :  he  came  off  victorious  ;  but  as  his  courage  had 
far  exceeded  the  strength  of  his  constitution  in  this  exer- 
tion to  win  the  wager,  he  got  a  violent  fever  into  the 
bargain,  which  brought  him  very  low.  Miss  Jennings 
inquired  after  his  health  ;  but  that  was  all  she  dared  to 
do.  In  modern  romances,  a  princess  need  only  pay  a 
visit  to  some  hero,  abandoned  by  his  physicians,  a  perfect 
cure  would  be  wrought  in  three  days;  but  since  Miss 
Jennings  had  not  been  the  cause  of  Jermj  n's  fever,  she 
was  not  certain  of  relieving  him  from  it,  although  she 
had  been  sure  that  a  charitable  visit  would  not  have 
been  censured  in  a  malicious  court.  Without  therefore 
paying  any  attention  to  the  uneasiness  she  might  feel 
upon  the  occasion,  the  court  set  out  without  him  :  she 
had,  however,  the  gratification  to  testify  her  ill-humor 
throughout  the  whole  journey,  by  appearing  displeased 
with  everything  which  seemed  to  afford  satisfaction  to 
all  the  rest  of  the  company. 

Talbot  made  one  of  the  company  ;  and  flattering  him- 
self that  the  absence  of  a  dangerous  rival  might  produce 
some  change  in  his  favor,  he  was  attentive  to  all  the 
actions,  motions,  and  even  gestures,  of  his  former  mis- 
tress. There,  was  certainly  enough  fully  to  employ  his 
attention  :  it  was  contrary  to  her  disposition  to  remain 
long  in  a  serious  humor.  Her  natural  vivacity  hurried 
her  away,  from  being  seemingly  lost  in  thought,  into 
sallies  of  wit,  which  afforded  him  hopes  that  she  would 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


317 


soon  forget  Jerniyn,  and  remember  that  his  own  passion 
was  the  first  she  had  encouraged.  However,  he  kept  his 
distance,  notwithstanding  his  love  and  his  hopes,  being 
of  opinion  that  it  ill  became  an  injured  lover  to  betray 
either  the  least  weakness,  or  the  smallest  return  of  aflFec- 
tion,  for  an  imgrateful  mistress  who  had  deserted  him. 

Miss  Jennings  was  so  far  from  thinking  of  his  resent- 
ments, that  she  did  not  even  recollect  he  had  ever  paid 
his  addresses  to  her  ;  and  her  thoughts  being  wholly 
occupied  upon  the  poor  sick  man,  she  conducted  herself 
towards  Talbot  as  if  they  never  had  anything  to  say  to 
each  other.  It  was  to  him  that  she  most  usually  gave 
her  hand,  either  in  getting  into  or  out  of  the  coach  ;  she 
conversed  more  readily  with  him  than  any  other  person, 
and,  without  intending  it,  did  everything  to  make  the 
court  believe  she  was  cured  of  her  passion  for  Jermyn 
in  favor  of  her  former  lover. 

Of  this  he  seemed  likewise  convinced,  as  well  as  the  rest; 
and  thinking  it  now  proper  to  act  another  part,  in  order 
to  let  her  know  that  his  sentiments  with  respect  to  her 
were  still  the  same,  he  had  resolved  to  address  her  in  the 
most  tender  and  affectionate  manner  iipon  this  subject. 
Fortune  seemed  to  have  favored  him,  and  to  have 
smoothed  the  way  for  this  intended  harangue :  he  was 
alone  with  her  in  her  chamber ;  and,  what  was  still 
better,  she  was  rallying  him  concerning  Miss  Bo>  nton  ; 
saying,  "that  they  were  undoubtedly  much  obliged  to 
him  for  attending  them  on  their  journey,  whilst  poor 
Miss  Boynton  had  fainting  fits  at  Tunbridge,  at  least 
twice  every  day,  for  love  of  him."  Upon  this  discourse, 
Talbot  thought  it  right  to  begin  the  recital  of  his  suffer- 
ings and  fidelity,  when  ]\Iiss  Temple,  with  a  paper  in 
her  hand,  entered  the  room.  This  was  a  letter  in  verse, 
which  Lord  Rochester  had  written  .some  time  before, 
upon  the  intrigues  of  the  two  courts;  wherein,  upon  the 
subject  of  Miss  Jennings,  he  said:  "that  Talbot  had 
struck  terror  among  the  people  of  God,  by  his  gigantic 


318  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


stature  ;  but  that  Jermyn,  like  a  little  David,  had  van- 
quished the  great  Goliath."  Jeuuings,  delighted  with 
this  allusion,  read  it  over  two  or  three  times,  thought  it 
more  entertaining  than  Talbot's  conversation,  at  first 
heartily  laughed  at  it,  but  soon  after,  with  a  tender  air, 
"Poor  little  David  !  "  said  she,  with  a  deep  sigh,  and 
turning  her  head  on  one  side  during  this  short  reverie, 
she  shed  a  few  tears,  which  assuredly  did  not  flow  for 
the  defeat  of  the  giant.  This  stung  Talbot  to  the  quick  ; 
and,  seeing  himself  so  ridiculously  deceived  in  his  hopes, 
he  went  abruptly  out  of  the  room,  vowing  never  to  think 
any  more  of  a  giddy  girl,  whose  conduct  was  regulated 
neither  by  sense  nor  reason ;  but  he  did  not  keep  his 
resolution. 

The  other  votaries  of  love,  who  were  numerous  in 
this  court,  were  more  successful,  the  journey  being 
undertaken  solely  on  that  account.  There  were  con- 
tinual balls  and  entertainments  upon  the  road  ;  hunting, 
and  all  other  diversions,  wherever  the  court  halted  in  its 
progress.  The  tender  lovers  flattered  themselves  with 
the  thought  of  being  able  to  crown  their  happiness  as 
they  proceeded  in  their  journey ;  and  the  beauties  who 
governed  their  destiny  did  not  forbid  them  to  hope. 
Sidney  paid  his  court  with  wonderful  assiduity :  the 
duchess  made  the  duke  take  notice  of  his  late  perfect 
devotion  to  his  service  :  his  Royal  Highness  observed  it, 
and  agreed  that  he  ought  to  be  remembered  upon  the 
first  opportunity,  which  happened  soon  after. 

Montagu,  as  before  mentioned,  was  master  of  the  horse 
to  the  duchess :  he  was  possessed  of  a  great  deal  of  wit, 
had  much  penetration,  and  loved  mischief.  How  could 
she  bear  such  a  man  near  her  person,  in  the  present 
situation  of  her  heart  ?  This  greatly  embarrassed  her  ; 
but  Montagu's  elder  brother  having,  very  a-propos,  got 
himself  killed  where  he  had  no  business,*  the  duke 


*  Montagu's  elder  brother  was  killed  before  Bergen,  about  August, 
1665.    See  ArlingtoiV s  Letters,  vol.  ii.,  p.  87. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


319 


obtained  for  Montagu  the  post  of  master  of  the  horse  to 
the  queen,  which  the  deceased  enjoy  ed ;  and  the  hand- 
some Sidney  was  appointed  to  succeed  him  in  the  same 
employment  to  the  duchess.  All  this  happened  accord- 
ing to  her  wish  ;  and  the  duke  was  highly  pleased  that 
he  had  found  means  to  promote  these  two  gentlemen  at 
once,  without  being  at  the  least  expense. 

Miss  Hobart  greatly  applauded  these  promotions  :  .she 
had  frequent  and  long  conversations  with  Sidney,  which, 
being  remarked,  some  did  her  the  honor  to  believe  it 
was  upon  her  own  account ;  and  the  compliments  that 
were  made  her  iipon  the  occasion  she  most  willingly 
received.  The  duke,  who  believed  it  at  first,  observed 
to  the  duchess  the  unaccountable  taste  of  certain  persons, 
and  how  the  handsomest  young  fellow  in  England  was 
infatuated  with  such  a  frightful  creature. 

The  duchess  confessed  that  taste  was  very  arbitrary ; 
the  truth  whereof  he  himself  seemed  to  be  convinced  of, 
since  he  had  fixed  upon  the  beauteous  Helen  for  his 
mistress.  I  know  not  whether  this  raillery  caused  him 
to  reflect  for  what  reasons  he  made  his  choice  ;  but  it  is 
certain  he  began  to  cool  in  his  affections  for  Miss 
Cliiirchill ;  and  perhaps  he  would  entirely  have  aban- 
doned this  pursuit,  had  not  an  accident  taken  place, 
which  rai.sed  in  him  an  entirely  new  inclination  for  her. 

The  court  having  halted  for  a  few  days  in  a  fine  open 
country,  the  duchess  was  desirous  of  seeing  a  greyhound 
course.  This  diversion  is  practised  in  England  upon 
large  downs,  where  the  turf,  eaten  by  the  sheep,  is  par- 
ticularly green,  and  wonderfully  even.  She  was  in  her 
coach,  and  all  the  ladies  on  horseback,  every  one  of 
thein  being  attended  by  her  squire  ;  it  therefore  was  but 
reasonable  that  the  mistress  should  likewise  have  her 
squire.  He  accordingly  was  at  the  side  of  her  coach, 
and  seemed  to  compensate  for  his  deficiencies  in  con- 
versation, by  the  imcommon  beauty  of  his  mien  and 
figure. 


320  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


The  duke  attended  Miss  Churchill,  not  for  the  sake 
of  besieging  her  with  soft  flattering  tales  of  love,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  to  chide  her  for  sitting  so  ill  on  horseback. 
She  was  one  of  the  most  indolent  creatures  in  the  world  ; 
and  although  the  maids  of  honor  are  generally  the  worst 
mounted  of  the  whole  court,  yet,  in  order  to  distinguish 
her,  on  account  of  the  favor  she  enjoyed,  they  had  given 
her  a  very  pretty,  though  rather  a  high-spirited  horse  ; 
a  distinction  she  would  very  willingly  have  excused 
them. 

The  embarrassment  and  fear  she  was  under  had  added 
to  her  natural  paleness.  In  this  situation,  her  coun- 
tenance had  almost  completed  the  duke's  disgust,  when 
her  horse,  desirous  of  keeping  pace  with  the  others,  set 
olf  in  a  gallop,  notwithstanding  her  greatest  efforts  to 
prevent  it  ;  and  her  endeavors  to  hold  him  in,  firing  his 
mettle,  he  at  length  set  off  at  full  speed,  as  if  he  was 
running  a  race  against  the  duke's  horse. 

Miss  Churchill  lost  her  seat,  screamed  out,  and  fell 
from  her  horse.  A  fall  in  so  quick  a  pace  must  have 
been  violent;  and  yet  it  proved  favorable  to  her  in  every 
respect ;  for,  without  receiving  any  hurt,  she  gave  the 
lie  to  all  the  unfavorable  suppositions  that  had  been 
formed  of  her  person,  in  judging  from  her  face.  The 
duke  alighted,  in  order  to  help  her  :  she  was  so  greatly 
stunned,  that  her  thoughts  were  otherwise  employed 
than  about  decency  on  the  present  occasion  ;  and  those 
who  first  crowded  around  her  found  her  rather  in  a  neg- 
ligent posture  :  they  could  hardly  believe  that  limbs  of 
such  exquisite  beauty  could  belong  to  Miss  Churchill's 
face.  After  this  accident,  it  was  remarked  that  the 
duke's  tenderness  and  affection  for  her  increased  every 
day;  and,  towards  the  end  of  the  winter,  it  appeared  that 
she  had  not  tyrannized  over  his  passion,  nor  made  him 
languish  with  impatience. 

The  two  courts  returned  to  London  much  about  the 
same  time,  equally  satisfied  with  their  respective  excur- 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


321 


sions  ;  though  the  queen  was  disappointed  in  the  hopes 
she  had  entertained  of  the  good  effects  of  the  Tunbridge 
waters. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  the  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
mont  received  a  letter  from  the  Marchioness  de  Saint- 
Chauniont,  his  sister,  acquainting  him  that  he  might 
return  when  he  thought  proper,  the  king  having  given 
him  leave.  He  would  have  received  this  news  with  joy 
at  any  other  time,  whatever  had  been  the  charms  of  the 
English  court ;  but,  in  the  present  situation  of  his  heart, 
he  could  not  resolve  to  quit  it. 

He  had  returned  from  Tunbridge  a  thousand  times 
deeper  in  love  than  ever  ;  for,  during  this  agreeable  ex- 
cursion, he  had  every  day  seen  Miss  Hamilton,  either  in 
the  marshes  of  melancholy  Peckham  or  in  the  delicious 
walks  of  cheerful  Summer-hill,  or  in  the  daily  diversions 
and  entertainments  of  the  queen's  court  ;  and  whether 
he  saw  her  on  horseback,  heard  her  conversation,  or 
obser\'ed  her  in  the  dance,  still  he  was  persuaded  that 
Heaven  had  never  formed  an  object  in  every  respect 
more  worthy  of  the  love,  and  more  deserving  of  the 
affection,  of  a  man  of  sense  and  delicacy.  How  then 
was  it  possible  for  him  to  bear  the  thoughts  of  leaving 
her?  This  appeared  to  him  absolutely  impracticable  ; 
however,  as  he  was  desirous  of  making  a  merit  with  her, 
of  the  determination  he  had  made  to  neglect  his  fortune, 
rather  than  to  be  separated  from  her  charms,  he  showed 
her  his  sister's  letter  :  but  this  confidence  had  not  the 
success  he  expected. 

Miss  Hamilton,  in  the  first  place,  congratulated  him 
upon  his  recall  :  she  returned  him  many  thanks  for  the 
sacrifice  he  intended  to  make  her  ;  but  as  this  testimony 
of  affection  greatly  exceeded  the  bounds  of  mere  gal- 
lantry, however  sensibly  she  might  feel  this  mark  of  his 
tenderness,  she  was,  however,  determined  not  to  abuse 
it.  In  vain  did  he  protest  that  he  would  rather  meet 
death  than  part  from  her  irresistible  charms  ;  and  her 
21 


322 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


irresistible  charms  protested  that  he  should  never  see 
them  more,  unless  he  departed  immediately.  Thus  was 
he  forced  to  obey.  However,  he  was  allowed  to  flatter 
himself  that  these  positive  orders,  how  harsh  soever  they 
might  appear,  did  not  flow  from  indifference  ;  that  she 
would  always  be  more  pleased  with  his  return  than  with 
his  departure,  for  which  she  was  now  so  urgent  ;  and 
having  generously  given  him  assurances  that,  so  far  as 
depended  upon  herself,  he  would  find,  upon  his  return, 
no  variation  in  her  sentiments  during  his  absence,  he 
took  leave  of  his  friends,  thinking  of  nothing  but  his 
return,  at  the  very  time  he  was  making  preparations  for 
his  departure. 


COUNTESS  OF  SHREWSBURY. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


The  nearer  the  Chevalier  de  Graminont  approached 
the  court  of  France,  the  more  did  he  regret  his  absence 
from  that  of  England  ;  not  hut  that  he  expected  a  gra- 
cious reception  at  the  feet  of  his  master,  whose  anger  no 
one  provoked  with  impunity  ;  but  who  likewise  knew 
how  to  pardon,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  the  favor  he 
conferred  in  every  respect  to  be  felt. 

A  thousand  different  thoughts  occupied  his  mind  upon 
the  journey  :  sometimes  he  reflected  upon  the  joy  and 
satisfaction  his  friends  and  relations  would  experience 
upon  his  return  ;  sometimes  upon  the  congratulations 
and  embraces  of  those  who,  being  neither  the  one  nor  , 
the  other,  would,  nevertheless,  overwhelm  him  with  im- 
pertinent compliments  :  all  these  ideas  passed  quickly 
through  his  head  ;  for  a  man  deeply  in  love  makes  it  a 
scruple  of  conscience  not  to  suffer  any  other  thoughts 
to  dwell  upon  his  mind  than  those  of  the  object  beloved. 
It  was  then  the  tender,  endearing  rememl)rance  of  what 
he  had  left  in  Loudon  that  diverted  his  thoughts  from 
Paris;  and  it  was  the  torments  of  absence  that  prevented 
his  feeling  those  of  the  bad  roads  and  the  bad  horses. 
His  heart  protested  to  Miss  Hamilton,  between  l\Ion- 
treuil  and  Abbeville,  that  he  only  tore  himself  from  her 

(323) 


324 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


with  such  haste  to  return  the  sooner  ;  after  which,  by  a 
short  reflection,  comparing  the  regret  he  had  formerly 
felt  upon  the  same  road,  in  quitting  France  for  England, 
with  that  which  he  now  experienced  in  quitting  England 
for  France,  he  found  the  last  much  more  insupportable 
than  the  former. 

It  is  thus  that  a  man  in  love  entertains  himself  upon 
the  road;  or  rather,  it  is  thus  that  a  trifling  writer  abuses 
the  patience  of  his  reader,  either  to  display  his  own  sen- 
timents, or  to  lengthen  out  a  tedious  story;  but  God  for- 
bid that  this  character  should  apply  to  ourselves,  since 
we  profess  to  insert  nothing  in  these  memoirs,  but  what 
we  have  heard  from  the  mouth  of  him  whose  actions  and 
sayings  we  transmit  to  posterity. 

Who,  except  Squire  Feraulas,  has  ever  been  able  to 
keep  a  register  of  all  the  thoughts,  sighs,  and  exclama- 
tions of  his  illustrious  master?  For  my  own  part,  I 
should  never  have  thought  that  the  attention  of  the 
Coi;nt  de  Grammont,  which  is  at  present  so  sensible  to 
inconveniences  and  dangers,  would  have  ever  permitted 
him  to  entertain  amorous  thoughts  upon  the  road,  if  he 
did  not  himself  dictate  to  me  what  I  am  now  writing. 

But  let  us  speak  of  him  at  Abbeville.  The  postmaster 
was  his  old  acquaintance:  his  hotel  was  the  best  provided 
of  ai:y  between  Calais  and  Paris  ;  and  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammont,  alighting,  told  Termes  he  would  drink  a 
glass  of  wine  during  the  time  they  were  changing  horses. 
It  was  about  noon:  and,  since  the  preceding  night, 
when  they  had  landed  at  Calais,  until  this  instant,  they 
had  not  eat  a  single  mouthful.  Termes,  praising  the 
Lord,  that  natural  feelings  had  for  once  prevailed  over 
the  inhumanity  of  his  usual  impatience,  confirmed  him 
as  much  as  possible  in  such  reasonable  sentiments. 

Upon  their  entering  the  kitchen,  where  the  Chevalier 
generally  paid  his  first  visit,  they  were  surprised  to  see 
half  a  dozen  spits  loaded  with  game  at  the  fire,  and  every 
other  preparation  for  a  magnificent  entertainment.  The 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


325 


heart  of  Teriiies  leaped  for  joy:  he  gave  private  orders  to 
the  hostler  to  pull  the  shoes  off  some  of  the  horses,  that 
he  might  not  be  forced  away  from  this  place  before  he 
had  satisfied  his  craving  appetite. 

Soon  after  a  niimber  of  violins  and  hautboys,  attended 
by  all  the  mob  of  the  town,  entered  the  court.  The 
landlord,  being  asked  the  reason  of  these  great  prepara- 
tions, acquainted  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  that  they 
were  for  the  wedding  of  one  of  the  most  wealthy  gentle- 
men in  the  neighborhood  with  one  of  the  handsomest 
girls  in  the  whole  province  ;  that  the  entertainment  was 
to  be  at  his  house;  and  that,  if  his  lordship  chose  to  stop, 
in  a  very  short  time  he  would  see  the  new-married 
couple  arrive  from  the  chiirch,  since  the  music  was  al- 
ready come.  He  was  right  in  his  conjectures;  for  these 
words  were  scarce  out  of  his  mouth,  when  three  uncom- 
monly large  coaches,  loaded  with  lackeys,  as  tall  as 
Swiss,  with  most  gaudy  liveries,  all  covered  with  lace, 
appeared  in  the  court,  and  disembarked  the  whole  wed- 
ding company.  Never  was  country  magnificence  more 
naturally  displayed  :  rusty  tinsel,  tarnished  lace,  striped 
silks,  little  eyes,  and  full  swelling  breasts,  appeared  on 
every  side. 

If  the  first  sight  of  the  procession  surprised  the  Chev- 
alier de  Grammont,  faithful  Termes  was  no  less  aston- 
ished at  the  second.  The  little  that  was  to  be  seen  of 
the  bride's  face  appeared  not  without  beauty;  but  no 
judgment  could  be  formed  of  the  remainder:  four  dozen 
of  patches,  at  least,  and  ten  ringlets  of  hair,  on  each  side, 
most  completely  concealed  her  from  all  human  eyes;  but 
it  was  the  bridegroom  who  most  particularly  attracted 
the  Chevalier  de  Grammont' s  attention. 

He  was  as  ridiculously  dressed  as  the  rest  of  the  com- 
pany, except  a  coat  of  the  greatest  magnificence,  and  of 
the  most  exquisite  taste.  The  Chevalier  de  Grammont, 
walking  up  to  him  to  examine  his  dress,  began  to  com- 
mend the  embroidery  of  his  coat.    The  bridegroom 


326 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


thought  himself  much  honored  by  this  examination,  and 
told  him  he  bought  it  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  louis,  at 
the  time  he  was  paying  his  addresses  to  his  wife. 
"  Then  you  did  not  get  it  made  here?  "  said  the  Cheva- 
lier de  Grammont.  "No,"  replied  the  other;  "I 
bought  it  of  a  London  merchant,  who  had  ordered  it  for 
an  English  lord."  The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  who 
now  began  to  perceive  in  what  manner  the  adventure 
would  end,  asked  him  if  he  should  recollect  the  mer- 
chant if  he  saw  him  again  ?  "  Recollect  him  !  "  replied 
the  other,  "  I  surely  ought  ;  for  I  was  obliged  to  sit  up 
drinking  with  him  all  night  at  Calais,  as  I  was  endeav- 
oring to  beat  down  the  price."  Termes  had  vanished 
out  of  sight  as  soon  as  ever  this  coat  appeared,  though 
he  little  supposed  that  the  cursed  bridegroom  would 
have  any  conversation  concerning  it  with  his  master. 

The  Chevalier's  thoughts  were  some  time  wavering 
between  his  inclination  to  laugh,  and  a  desire  of  hanging 
Master  Termes;  but  the  long  habit  of  suffering  himself 
to  be  robbed  by  his  domestics,  together  with  the  vigil- 
ance of  the  criminal,  whom  his  master  could  not  reproach 
with  having  slept  in  his  service,  inclined  him  to  clem- 
ency ;  and  yielding  to  the  importunities  of  the  country 
gentleman,  in  order  to  confound  his  faithful  servant,  he 
sat  down  to  table,  to  make  the  thirty-seventh  of  the  com- 
pany. 

A  short  time  after,  he  desired  one  of  the  waiters  to  call 
for  a  gentleman  whose  name  was  Termes.  He  immedi- 
ately appeared  ;  and  as  soon  as  the  master  of  the  feast 
saw  him,  he  rose  from  table,  and  offering  him  his  hand ; 
"Welcome,  my  friend,"  said  he;  "you  see  that  I  have 
taken  good  care  of  the  coat  which  you  sold  me  with  so 
much  reluctance,  and  that  I  have  kept  it  for  a  good  pur- 
pose. ' ' 

Termes,  having  put  on  a  face  of  brass,  pretended  not 
to  know  him,  and  pushed  him  back  with  some  degree 
of  rudeness.    "No,  no  ! "  said  the  other;  "since  I  was 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


327 


obliged  to  sit  up  with  you  the  whole  night,  in  order  to 
strike  the  bargain,  you  shall  pledge  me  in  the  bride's 
health."  The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  who  saw  that 
Termes  was  disconcerted,  notwithstanding  his  impu- 
dence, said  to  him  with  a  smile:  "  Come,  come,  my  good 
London  merchant,  sit  down,  as  you  are  so  civilly  invited: 
we  are  not  so  crowded  at  table  but  that  there  will  be 
room  enough  for  such  an  honest  gentleman  as  yourself." 
At  these  words  five-and-thirty  of  the  guests  were  in  motion 
to  receive  this  new  visitor:  the  bride  alone,  out  of  an  idea 
of  decorum,  remained  seated;  and  the  audacious  Termes, 
having  swallowed  the  first  shame  of  this  adventure,  be- 
gan to  lay  about  him  at  such  a  rate,  as  if  it  had  been  his 
intention  to  swallow  all  the  wine  provided  for  the  wed- 
ding, if  his  master  had  not  risen  from  the  table  as  they 
were  taking  off  four-and-twenty  soups,  to  serve  up  as 
many  other  dishes  in  their  stead. 

The  company  were  not  so  imreasonable  as  to  desire  a 
man  who  was  in  such  haste  to  remain  to  the  end  of  a 
wedding  dinner;  but  they  all  got  up  when  he  arose  from 
table,  and  all  that  he  could  obtain  from  the  bridegroom 
was  that  the  company  .should  not  attend  him  to  the  gate 
of  the  inn.  As  for  Termes,  he  wished  they  had  not 
quitted  him  till  the  end  of  their  journey,  so  much  did  he 
dread  being  left  alone  with  his  master. 

They  had  advanced  some  distance  from  Abbeville,  and 
were  proceeding  on  in  the  most  profound  silence,  when 
Termes,  who  expected  an  end  to  it  in  a  short  time,  was 
only  solicitous  in  what  manner  it  might  happen,  whether 
his  master  would  attack  him  with  a  torrent  of  invectives, 
and  certain  epithets  which  were  most  justly  his  due,  or 
whether,  in  an  insulting,  ironical  manner,  he  might 
make  use  of  .such  commendations  as  were  most  likely  to 
confound  him  ;  but  finding,  instead  of  either,  that  he 
remained  in  sullen  silence,  he  thought  it  prudent  rather 
to  prevent  the  speech  the  Chevalier  was  meditating  than 
to  suffer  him  to  think  longer  about  it ;  and  accordingly. 


328 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


arming  himself  with  all  his  effrontery:  "Yon  seem  to 
be  ver}-  angry,  Sir,"  said  he,  "and  I  snppose  yon  think 
you  have  reason  for  being  so ;  but  the  devil  take  me,  if 
you  are  not  mistaken  in  reality." 

"How!  traitor!  in  reality?"  said  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammont.  "It  is  then  because  I  have  not  had  thee 
well  thrashed,  as  thou  hast  for  a  long  time  merited." 
"Look  ye,  Sir,"  replied  Termes,  "you  always  run  into 
a  passion,  instead  of  listening  to  reason  !  Yes,  Sir,  I 
maintain  that  what  I  did  was  for  your  benefit."  "And 
was  not  the  quicksand  likewise  for  my  service?"  said 
the  Chevalier  de  Grammont.  "  Have  patience,  if  you 
please, ' '  pursued  the  other :  "I  know  not  how  that 
simpleton  of  a  bridegroom  happened  to  be  at  the  custom- 
house when  my  portmanteau  was  examined  at  Calais  : 
but  these  silly  cuckolds  thrust  in  their  noses  everywhere. 
As  soon  as  ever  he  saw  your  coat,  he  fell  in  love  with  it, 
I  immediately  perceived  he  was  a  fool ;  for  he  fell  down 
upon  his  knees,  beseeching  me  to  sell  it  him.  Besides 
being  greatly  rumpled  in  the  portmanteau,  it  was  all 
stained  in  front  by  the  sweat  of  the  horses.  I  wonder 
how  the  devil  he  has  managed  to  get  it  cleaned  ;  but, 
faith,  I  am  the  greatest  scoundrel  in  the  world,  if  you 
would  ever  have  put  it  on.  In  a  word,  it  cost  }'ou  one 
hundred  and  forty  louis  d'ors,  and  seeing  he  offered  me 
one  hundred  and  fifty  for  it ;  '  My  master,'  said  I,  '  has  no 
occasion  for  this  tinselled  bauble  to  distinguish  him  at 
the  ball ;  and,  although  he  was  pretty  full  of  cash  when 
I  left  him,  how  know  I  in  what  situation  he  may  be 
upon  my  return?  there  is  no  certainty  at  play.'  To  be 
brief.  Sir,  I  got  ten  louis  d'ors  for  it  more  than  it  cost 
you  :  this  yon  see  is  all  clear  profit :  I  will  be  accountable 
to  you  for  it,  and  you  know  that  I  am  sufficiently  sub- 
stantial to  make  good  such  a  sum.  Confess  now,  do  you 
think  }-oi:  would  have  appeared  to  greater  advantage  at 
the  ball,  if  you  had  been  dressed  out  in  that  damned 
coat,  which  would  have  made  you  look  just  like  the 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


329 


village  bridegroom  to  whom  we  sold  it?  and  yet  liow 
you  stormed  at  London  when  you  thought  it  lost ;  what 
fine  stories  you  told  the  king  about  the  quicksand  ;  and 
how  churlish  you  looked,  when  you  first  began  to 
suppose  that  this  country  looby  wore  it  at  his  wed- 
ding ! " 

What  could  the  Chevalier  reply  to  such  uncommon 
impudence?  If  he  indulged  his  resentment,  he  must 
either  have  most  severely  bastinadoed  him,  or  he  must 
have  discarded  him,  as  the  easiest  escape  the  rogue  could 
expect ;  but  he  had  occasion  for  him  during  the  re- 
mainder of  his  journey  ;  and  as  soon  as  he  was  at  Paris, 
he  had  occasion  for  him  for  his  return. 

The  IVIarechal  de  Grammont  had  no  sooner  notice  of 
his  arrival  than  he  went  to  him  at  the  hotel ;  and,  the 
first  embraces  being  over  on  both  sides,  "Chevalier," 
said  the  Marechal,  "how  many  days  have  you  been  in 
coming  from  London  hither?  for  God  knows  at  what 
a  rate  you  travel  on  such  occasions."  The  Chevalier 
told  him  he  had  been  three  da}  S  upon  the  road  ;  and,  to 
excuse  himself  for  making  no  more  haste,  he  related  to 
him  his  Abbeville  adventure.  "It  is  a  very  entertaining 
one,"  said  his  brother;  "  but  what  is  yet  more  enter- 
taining is,  that  it  will  be  your  fault  if  you  do  not  find 
your  coat  still  at  table ;  for  the  country  gentry  are  not 
accustomed  to  rise  very  soon  from  a  wedding  dinner." 
And  then,  in  a  very  serious  tone,  told  him,  "he  knew 
not  who  had  advised  him  to  this  iinexpected  return, 
which  might  probably  ruin  all  his  affairs  ;  but  he  had 
orders  from  the  king  to  bid  him  go  back  again  without 
appearing  at  coi:rt.  He  told  him  afterwards  that  he  was 
very  much  astonished  at  his  impatience,  as,  till  this 
time,  he  had  conducted  himself  uncommonly  well,  and 
was  sufhciently  acqiiainted  with  the  king's  temper  to 
know  that  the  onh-  way  to  merit  his  pardon  was  to  wait 
until  it  freely  came  from  his  clemency." 

The  Chevalier,  in  justification  of  his  conduct,  pro- 


330  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


duced  Madame  de  Saint  Chaumont's  letter,  and  told  the 
Marechal  that  he  would  very  willingly  have  spared  her 
the  trouble  of  writing  him  such  kind  of  news,  to  occa- 
sion him  so  useless  a  journey.  "  Still  more  indiscre- 
tion," replied  his  brother;  "for,  pray  how  long  has  our 
sister  been  either  secretary  of  state  or  minister,  that  she 
should  be  employed  by  the  king  to  make  known  His 
Majesty's  order?  Do  you  wish  to  know  the  real  state 
of  the  case  ?  Some  time  ago  the  king  told  Madame* 
how  you  had  refused  the  pension  the  King  of  England 
ojBered  you  :  he  appeared  pleased  with  the  manner  in 
which  Comminges  had  related  to  him  the  circumstances 
attending  it,  and  said  he  was  pleased  with  you  for  it : 
Madame  interpreted  this  as  an  order  for  your  recall ;  and 
Madame  de  Saint  Chaumont  being  very  far  from  pos- 
sessing that  wonderful  discretion  she  imagines  herself 
mistress  of,  she  hastened  to  despatch  to  you  this  con- 
sequential order  in  her  own  hand.  To  conclude  : 
Madame  said  yesterday,  when  the  king  was  at  dinner, 
that  you  would  very  soon  be  here  ;  and  the  king,  as  soon 

*  Henrietta,  youngest  daughter  of  Charles  the  First,  bom  at  Exeter 
i6th  June,  1644,  from  whence  she  was  removed  to  London  in  1646,  and, 
with  her  governess.  Lady  Dalkeith,  soon  afterwards  conve3-ed  to  France. 
On  the  restoration,  she  came  over  to  England  with  her  mother,  but 
returned  to  France  in  about  six  months,  and  was  married  to  Philip, 
Duke  of  Orleans,  only  brother  of  Louis  XIV.  In  May,  1670,  she  came 
again  to  Dover,  on  a  mission  of  a  political  nature,  it  is  supposed,  from 
the  French  king  to  her  brother,  in  which  she  was  successful.  She  died, 
soon  after  her  return  to  France,  suddenly,  not  without  suspicion  of 
having  been  poisoned  by  her  husband.  King  James,  in  his  Diary,  says, 
"  On  the  22d  of  June,  the  news  of  the  Duchess  of  Orleans'  death  arrived. 
It  was  suspected  that  counter-poisons  were  given  her ;  but  when  she 
was  opened,  in  the  presence  of  the  English  ambassador,  the  Earl  of 
Ailesbury,  an  English  physician  and  surgeon,  there  appeared  no  grounds 
of  suspicion  of  any  foul  play.  Yet  Bucks  talked  openly  that  she  was 
poisoned  ;  and  was  so  violent  as  to  propose  to  foreign  ministers  to  make 
war  on  'Fra.uce.'"—Macp/ierson's  Original  Papers,  vol.  i.  At  the  end 
of  Lord  Arlington' s  Letters  are  five  very  remarkable  ones  from  a  person 
of  qualit}',  who  is  said  to  have  been  actually  on  the  spot,  giving  a  par- 
ticular relation  of  her  death. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


331 


as  dinner  was  over,  coniniandecl  me  to  send  )  ou  back  as 
soon  as  you  arrived.  Here  you  are  ;  set  off  again  im- 
mediately." 

This  order  might  have  appeared  severe  to  the  Cheva- 
lier de  Grammout  at  any  other  time  ;  but,  in  the  present 
state  of  his  heart,  he  soon  resolved  upon  obeying.  Noth- 
ing gave  him  uneasiness  but  the  officious  advice  which 
had  obliged  him  to  leave  the  English  court  ;  and  being 
entirely  unconcerned  that  he  was  not  allowed  to  see  the 
French  court  before  his  departure,  he  only  desired  the 
]\Iarechal  to  obtain  leave  for  him  to  stay  a  few  days  to 
collect  in  some  play  debts  which  were  owing  him. 
This  request  was  granted,  on  condition  that  he  should 
not  remain  in  Paris. 

He  chose  Vaugirard  for  his  retreat  :  it  was  there  that 
he  had  several  adventures  which  he  so  often  related  in  so 
humorous  and  diverting  a  manner,  that  it  would  be  tedi- 
ous to  repeat  them;  there  it  was  that  he  administered  the 
sacrament  in  so  solemn  a  manner,  that,  as  there  did  not 
remain  a  sufficient  number  of  Swiss  at  Versailles  to  guard 
the  chapel,  Vardes  was  obliged  to  acquaint  the  king  that 
they  were  all  gone  to  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  who 
was  administering  the  sacrament  at  Vaugirard  :  there 
likewise  happened  that  wonderful  adventure  which 
threw  the  first  slur  upon  the  reputation  of  the  great 
Saucourt,  when,  having  a  tete-a-tete  with  the  gardener's 
daughter,  the  horn,  which  was  agreed  upon  as  the  signal 
to  prevent  surprises,  was  sounded  so  often,  that  the  fre- 
quent alarms  cooled  the  courage  of  the  celebrated  Sau- 
court, and  rendered  useless  the  assignation  that  was 
procured  for  him  with  one  of  the  prettiest  girls  in  the 
neighborhood.  It  was,  likewise,  during  his  stay  at  Vau- 
girard, that  he  paid  a  visit  to  Mademoiselle  de  I'Hopital 
at  Iss3%  to  inquire  into  the  truth  of  a  report  of  an  amour 
between  her  and  a  man  of  the  long  robe;  and  it  was  there 
that,  on  his  arriving  unexpectedly,  the  President  de 
IMaisons  was  forced  to  take  refuge  in  a  closet,  with  so 


332 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


much  precipitation,  that  half  of  his  robe  remained  on  the 
outside  when  he  shut  the  door  ;  while  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramniont,  who  observed  it,  made  his  visit  exces- 
sively long,  in  order  to  keep  the  two  lovers  upon  the 
rack. 

His  business  being  settled  he  set  out  for  England  on 
the  wings  of  love.  Termes  redoubled  his  vigilance  upon 
the  road.  The  post  horses  were  ready  in  an  instant  at 
every  stage:  the  winds  and  tides  favored  his  impatience  ; 
and  he  reached  London  with  the  highest  satisfaction. 
The  court  was  both  surprised  and  charmed  at  his  sudden 
return.  No  person  condoled  with  him  upon  his  late  dis- 
appointment, which  had  occasioned  him  to  come  back, 
as  he  testified  no  manner  of  uneasiness  concerning  it 
himself;  nor  was  Miss  Hamilton  in  the  least  displeased 
at  his  readiness  in  obeying  the  orders  of  the  king,  his 
master. 

Nothing  new  had  happened  in  the  English  court 
during  his  short  absence;  but  it  assumed  a  different 
aspect  soon  after  his  return  :  I  mean  with  respect 
to  love  and  pleasure,  which  were  the  most  serious  con- 
cerns of  the  court  during  the  greatest  parf  of  this  gay 
reign. 

The  Duke  of  Monmouth,*  natural  son  to  Charles  the 
Second,  now  made  his  first  appearance  in  his  father's 


*  James,  Duke  of  Monmouth,  was  the  son  of  Charles  II.,  by  one 
Lucy  Walters.  He  was  born  at  Rotterdam,  April  9,  1649,  ^""i  bore  the 
name  of  James  Crofts  until  the  restoration.  His  education  was  chiefly 
at  Paris,  under  the  eye  of  the  queen-mother,  and  the  government  of 
Thomas  Ross,  Esq.,  who  was  afterwards  secretary  to  Mr.  Coventry 
during  his  embassy  in  Sweden.  At  the  restoration  he  was  brought  to 
England,  and  received  with  joy  by  his  father,  who  heaped  honors  and 
riches  upon  hitn,  which  were  not  sufficient  to  satisfy  his  ambitious 
views.  To  exclude  his  uncle,  the  Duke  of  York,  from  the  throne,  he 
was  continually  intriguing  with  the  opposers  of  government,  and  was 
frequently  in  disgrace  with  his  sovereign.  On  the  accession  of  James 
II.  he  made  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  raise  a  rebellion,  was  taken  pris- 
oner, and  beheaded  on  Tower-hill,  15th  July,  1685. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT, 


333 


court.  His  entrance  upon  the  staple  of  the  world  was  so 
brilliant,  his  ambition  had  occasioned  so  many  consid- 
erable events,  and  the  particulars  of  his  tragical  end  are 
so  recent,  that  it  were  needless  to  produce  any  other 
traits  to  give  a  sketch  of  his  character.  By  the  whole 
tenor  of  his  life,  he  appeared  to  be  rash  in  his  under- 
takings, irresolute  in  the  execution,  and  dejected  in  his 
misfortunes,  in  which,  at  least,  an  imdaunted  resolution 
ought  to  equal  the  greatness  of  the  attempt. 

His  figure  and  the  exterior  graces  of  his  person  were 
such,  that  nature  perhaps  never  formed  anything  more 
complete.  His  face  was  extremely  handsome  ;  and  yet 
it  was  a  manly  face,  neither  inanimate  nor  effeminate  ; 
each  feature  having  its  beauty  and  peculiar  delicacy:  he 
had  a  wonderful  genius  for  every  sort  of  exercise,  an  en- 
gaging aspect,  and  an  air  of  grandeur  :  in  a  word,  he 
possessed  every  personal  advantage  ;  but  then  he  was 
greatly  deficient  in  mental  accomplishments.  He  had 
no  sentiments  but  such  as  others  inspired  him  with;  and 
those  who  first  insinuated  themselves  into  his  friendship 
took  care  to  inspire  him  with  none  but  such  as  were  per- 
nicious. The  astonishing  beauty  of  his  outward  form 
caused  imiversal  admiration  :  those  who  before  were 
looked  upon  as  handsome  were  now  entirely  forgotten 
at  court  :  and  all  the  gay  and  beautiful  of  the  fair  sex 
were  at  his  devotion.  He  was  particularly  beloved  by 
the  king,  but  the  universal  terror  of  husbands  and  lovers. 
This,  however,  did  not  long  continue;  for  nature  not 
having  endowed  him  with  qualifications  to  secure  the 
possession  of  the  heart,  the  fair  sex  .soon  perceived  the 
defect. 

The  Duchess  of  Cleveland  was  out  of  humor  v/ith  the 
king,  because  the  children  she  had  by  His  Majesty  were 
like  .so  many  little  puppets,  compared  to  this  new  Adoni.s. 
She  was  the  more  particularly  hurt,  as  she  might  have 
boasted  of  being  the  queen  of  love,  in  comparison  with 
the  duke's  mother.    The  king,  however,  laughed  at  her 


334  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


reproaches,  as,  for  some  time,  she  had  certainly  no  right 
to  make  any;  and  as  this  piece  of  jealousy  appeared  to  be 
more  ill-fonnded  than  any  she  had  formerly  affected,  no 
person  approved  of  her  ridiculous  resentment.  Not  suc- 
ceeding in  this,  she  formed  another  scheme  to  give  the 
king  uneasiness.  Instead  of  opposing  his  extreme  ten- 
derness for  his  son,  she  pretended  to  adopt  him  in  her 
affections,  by  a  thousand  commendations  and  caresses, 
which  she  was  daily  and  continually  increasing.  As 
these  endearments  were  public,  she  imagined  they  could 
not  be  suspected  ;  but  she  was  too  well  known  for  her 
real  design  to  be  mistaken.  The  king  was  no  longer 
jealous  of  her;  but,  as  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  was  of  an 
age  not  to  be  insensible  to  the  attractions  of  a  woman 
possessing  so  many  charms,  he  thought  it  proper  to  with- 
draw him  from  this  pretended  mother-in-law,  to  preserve 
his  innocence,  or  at  least  his  fame,  uncontaminated  :  it 
was  for  this  reason,  therefore,  that  the  king  married  him 
so  young. 

An  heiress  of  five  thousand  pounds  a  year  in  Scotland,* 


*  This  was  Lady  Anue  Scott,  daughter  and  sole  heiress  of  Francis, 
Earl  of  Biiccleugh,  only  son  and  heir  of  Walter,  Lord  Scott,  created 
Earl  of  Buccleugh  in  1619.  On  their  marriage  the  duke  took  the  sur- 
name of  Scott,  and  he  and  his  lady  were  created  Duke  and  Duchess  of 
Buccleugh,  Earl  and  Countess  of  Dalkeith,  Barou  and  Baroness  of 
Whitchester  and  Ashdale  in  Scotland,  by  letters  patent,  dated  April  20, 
1673.  Also,  two  days  after,  he  was  installed  at  Windsor,  the  king  and 
queen,  the  Duke  of  York,  and  most  of  the  court  being  present.  The 
next  day,  being  St.  George's  day,  His  Majesty  solemnized  it  with  a 
royal  feast,  and  entertained  the  knights'  companions  in  St.  George's 
hall  in  the  castle  of  Windsor.  Though  there  were  several  children  of 
this  marriage,  it  does  not  appear  to  have  been  a  happy  one  ;  the  duke, 
without  concealment,  attaching  himself  to  Lady  Harriet  Wentworth, 
whom,  with  his  dying  breath,  he  declared  he  considered  as  his  only 
wife  in  the  sight  of  God.  The  duchess,  in  May,  16S8,  took  to  her  sec- 
ond husband,  Charles,  Lord  Cornwallis.  She  died  Feb.  6,  1731-32,  in 
the  8ist  year  of  her  age,  and  was  buried  at  Dalkeith  in  Scotland.  Our 
author  is  not  more  correct  about  figures  than  he  avows  himself  to  be  in 
the  arrangement  of  facts  and  dates  ;  the  duchess's  fortune  was  much 
greater  than  he  has  stated  it  to  have  been. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


335 


offered  very  a-propos:  her  person  was  full  of  charms,  and 
her  mind  possessed  all  those  perfections  in  which  the 
handsome  Monmouth  was  deficient. 

New  festivals  and  entertainments  celebrated  this  mar- 
riage. The  most  effectual  method  to  pay  court  to  the 
king  was  to  outshine  the  rest  in  brilliancy  and  grandeur; 
and  whilst  these  rejoicings  brought  forward  all  manner 
of  gallantry  and  magnificence,  they  either  revived  old  or 
established  new  amours. 

The  fair  Stewart,  then  in  the  meridian  of  her  glory, 
attracted  all  eyes,  and  commanded  universal  respect  and 
admiration.  The  Duchess  of  Cleveland  endeavored  to 
eclipse  her  at  this  fete,  by  a  load  of  jewels,  and  by  all 
the  artificial  ornaments  of  dress  ;  but  it  was  in  vain  :  her 
face  looked  rather  thin  and  pale,  from  the  commence- 
m^*ntof  a  third  or  fourth  pregnancy,  which  the  king  was 
still  pleased  to  place  to  his  own  account  ;  and,  as  for  the 
rest,  her  person  could  in  no  respect  stand  in  competition 
with  the  grace  and  beauty  of  Miss  Stewart. 

It  was  during  this  last  effort  of  her  charms,  that  she 
would  have  been  queen  of  England  had  the  king  been 
as  free  to  give  his  hand  as  he  was  to  surrender  his  heart: 
for  it  was  at  this  time  that  the  Duke  of  Richmond  took 
it  into  his  head  either  to  marry  her,  or  to  die  in  the 
attempt, 

A  few  months  after  the  celebration  of  the  Duke  of 
Monmouth's  nuptials,  Killegrew,*  having  nothing  better 


*  Thomas  Killegrew  was  one  of  the  sons  of  Sir  Robert  Killegrew, 
chamberlain  to  the  queen,  and  was  born  at  Hanworlh,  in  the  county 
of  Middlesex,  in  the  month  of  February,  1611.  He  seems  to  have 
been  early  intended  for  the  court,  and  to  qualify  him  for  rising  there, 
every  circumstance  of  his  education  appears  to  have  been  adapted.  He 
was  appointed  page  of  honor  to  King  Charles  I.,  and  faithfully  ad- 
hered to  his  cause  until  the  death  of  his  master ;  after  which  he  at- 
tended his  son  in  his  exile  ;  to  whom  he  was  highly-  acceptable,  on 
account  of  liis  social  and  convivial  qualifications.  He  married  Mrs. 
Cecilia  Crofts,  one  of  the  maids  of  honor  to  Queen  Henrietta.  In 
1651  he  was  sent  to  Venice,  as  resident  at  that  state.  He  died  at  White- 


336  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT, 


to  do,  fell  in  love  with  Lady  Slirewsbiir}' ;  and,  as  Lady 
Slirewsburj',  by  a  very  extraordinary  chance,  had  no  en- 
gagement at  that  time,  their  amour  was  soon  established. 
No  one  thought  of  interrupting  an  intimacy  which  did 
not  concern  any  one  ;  but  Killegrew  thought  proper  to 
disturb  it  himself.  Not  that  his  happiness  fell  short  of 
his  expectation,  nor  did  possession  put  him  out  of  love 
with  a  situation  so  enviable  ;  but  he  was  amazed  that  he 
was  not  envied,  and  offended  that  his  good  fortune  raised 
him  no  rivals. 

He  possessed  a  great  deal  of  wit,  and  still  more  elo- 
quence, which  most  particularly  displayed  itself  when 
he  was  a  little  elevated  with  the  juice  of  the  grape  :  he 
then  indulged  himself  in  giving  luxurious  descriptions 
of  Lady  Shrewsbury's  most  secret  charms  and  beauties, 
which  above  half  the  court  were  as  well  acquainted  with 
as  himself. 

The  Duke  of  Buckingham  was  one  of  those  who  could 
only  judge  from  outward  appearances  :  and  appearances, 
in  his  opinion,  did  not  seem  to  promise  anything  so  ex- 
quisite as  the  extravagant  praises  of  Killegrew  would 
infer.  As  this  indiscreet  lover  was  a  frequent  guest  at 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  table,  he  was  continually 
employing  his  rhetoric  on  this  subject,  and  he  had  full 
opportunity  for  his  harangues  ;  for  they  generally  sat 
down  to  dinner  at  four  o'clock,  and  only  rose  just  iu 
time  for  the  play  in  the  evening. 

The  Duke  of  Buckingham,  whose  ears  were  contin- 
ually deafened  with  descriptions  of  Lady  Shrewsbury's 
merits,  resolved  at  last  to  examine  into  the  truth  of  the 
matter  himself.  As  soon  as  he  had  made  the  experi- 
ment, he  was  satisfied;  and,  though  he  fancied  that  fame 
did  not  exceed  the  truth,  yet  this  intrigue  began  in  such 
a  manner  that  it  was  generally  believed  its  duration 


hall,  19th  March,  16S2,  bewailed,  as  it  is  said,  by  his  friends,  aud  truly 
wept  for  by  the  poor. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT. 


337 


would  be  short,  considering^  the  fickleness  of  both  par- 
ties, and  the  vivacity  with  which  they  had  engaged  in 
it  :  nevertheless,  no  amour  in  England  ever  continued 
so  long. 

The  imprudent  Killcgrew,  who  could  not  be  satisfied 
without  rivals,  was  obliged,  in  the  end,  to  be  satisfied 
without  a  mistress.  This  he  bore  very  impatiently;  but 
so  far  was  Lady  Shrewsbury  from  hearkening  to,  or 
affording  any  redress  for  the  grievances  at  first  com- 
plained of,  that  she  pretended  even  not  to  know  him. 
His  spirit  could  not  brook  such  treatment  ;  and,  without 
ever  considering  that  he  was  the  author  of  his  own  dis- 
grace, he  let  loose  all  his  abusive  eloquence  against  her 
ladyship:  he  attacked  her  with  the  most  bitter  invectives 
from  head  to  foot  :  he  drew  a  frightful  picture  of  her 
conduct  ;  and  turned  all  her  personal  charm.s,  which  he 
used  to  extol,  into  defects.  He  was  privately  warned  of 
the  inconveniences  to  which  these  declamations  might 
subject  him,  but  despised  the  advice,  and,  persisting,  he 
soon  had  reason  to  repent  it. 

As  he  was  returning^  one  eveniu";  from  the  Duke  of 
York's  apartments  at  St.  James's,  three  passes  with  a 
sword  were  made  at  him  through  his  chair,  one  of  which 
went  entirely  through  his  arm.  Upon  this,  he  was  sen- 
sible of  the  danger  to  which  his  intemperate  tongue  had 
exposed  him,  over  and  above  the  loss  of  his  mistress. 
The  assassins  made  their  escape  across  the  Park,  not 
doubting  but  they  had  dispatched  him. 

Killegrew  thought  that  all  complaints  would  be  use- 
less ;  for  what  redress  from  justice  could  he  expect  for 
an  attempt  of  which  his  wounds  were  his  only  evidence? 
And,  besides,  he  was  convinced  that  if  he  began  a  prose- 
cution founded  upon  appearances  and  conjectures,  the 
parties  concerned  would  take  the  shortest  and  most  eflfec- 
tual  means  to  put  a  stop  to  all  inquiries  upon  the  subject, 
and  that  their  second  attempt  would  not  prove  ineflTec- 
tual.     Being  desirous,  therefore,  of  deserving  mercy 

22 


338  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


from  those  who  had  endeavored  to  assassinate  him,  he 
no  longer  continued  his  satires,  and  said  not  a  word  of 
the  adventure.  The  Duke  of  Buckingliam  and  L,ady 
Shrewsbury  remained  for  a  long  period  both  happy  and 
contented.  *  Never  before  had  her  constancy  been  of  so 
long  a  duration;  nor  had  he  ever  been  so  submissive  and 
respectful  a  lover. 

This  continued  until  Lord  Shrewsbury,  who  never 
before  had  shown  the  least  uneasiness  at  his  lady's  mis- 
conduct, thought  proper  to  resent  this  :  it  was  public 
enough,  indeed,  but  less  dishonorable  to  her  than  any 
of  her  former  intrigues.  Poor  Lord  Shrewsbury,  too 
polite  a  man  to  make  any  reproaches  to  his  wife,  was 
resolved  to  have  redress  for  his  injured  honor:  he  accord- 
ingly challenged  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  ;  and  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  as  a  reparation  for  his  honor,  hav- 
ing killed  him  upon  the  spot,  remained  a  peaceable  pos- 
sessor of  this  famous  Helen.  The  public  was  at  first 
shocked  at  the  transaction;  but  the  public  grows  familiar 
with  everything  by  habit,  and  by  degrees  both  decency 
and  even  virtue  itself  are  rendered  tame  and  overcome. 
The  queen  was  at  the  head  of  those  who  exclaimed 
against  so  public  and  scandalous  a  crime,  and  against  the 
impunity  of  such  a  wicked  act.  As  the  Duchess  of 
Buckingham  t  was  a  short,  fat  body,  like  her  majesty, 

*  In  a  letter  from  Andrew  Marvel,  dated  August  9,  1671,  he  says: 
"Buckingham  runs  out  all  with  the  Lady  Shrewsbury,  whom  he  be- 
lieves he  had  a  son  (by)  to  whom  the  king  stood  godfather :  it  died 
young  Earl  of  Coventry,  and  was  buried  in  the  sepulchre  of  his 
fathers." — MarveVs  Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  406.  The  duel  in  which  the  Earl 
of  Shrewsbury  was  killed  by  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  happened  i6th 
March,  1667. 

t  Mary,  Duchess  of  Buckingham,  was  the  only  daughter  of  Thomas, 
Lord  Fairfax,  and  Anne,  the  daughter  of  Horace,  Lord  Vere ;  a  most 
virtuous  and  pious  lady,  in  a  vicious  age  and  court.  If  she  had  any  of 
the  vanities,  she  had  certainly  none  of  the  vices  of  it.  The  duke  and 
she  lived  lovingly  and  decently  together ;  she  patiently  bearing  with 
those  faults  in  him  which  she  could  not  remed}-.  She  survived  him 
many  years,  and  died  near  St.  James's,  at  Westminster,  and  was  buried 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GKAMMONT. 


339 


who  never  had  had  any  children,  and  whom  her  husband 
had  abandoned  for  another  ;  this  sort  of  parallel  in  their 
situations  interested  the  queen  in  her  favor ;  but  it 
was  all  in  vain  :  no  person  paid  any  attention  to  them  ; 
the  licentiousness  of  the  age  went  on  uncontrolled, 
though  the  queen  endeavored  to  raise  up  the  serious  part 
of  the  nation,  the  politicians  and  devotees,  as  enemies 
against  it. 


DUCHKSS  Ol-'  ULCKINGHAM. 


The  fate  of  this  princess  was  in  many  cases  truly  mel- 
ancholy :  the  king,  indeed,  paid  her  every  outward 
attention  ;  but  that  was  all  :  she  easily  perceived  that 
the  respect  he  entertained  for  her  daily  diminished,  in 
proportion  as  the  credit  of  her  rivals  increased  :  she  saw 


in  the  vault  of  tlie  family  of  Villiers,  in  Henry  VII. 's  chapel,  anno 
1705,  actat  66." — Brian  Fairfax's  Life  0/  the  Duke  of  Bitckitigham, 
4to.,  175S,  p.  39. 


340 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


that  the  king,  her  husband,  was  now  totally  indifferent 
abont  legitimate  children,  since  his  all-charming  mis- 
tresses bore  him  others.  As  all  the  happiness  of  her 
life  depended  upon  that  blessing,  and  as  she  flattered  her- 
self that  the  king  would  prove  kinder  to  her  if  Heaven 
would  vouchsafe  to  grant  her  desires,  she  had  recourse  to 
all  the  celebrated  secrets  against  sterility  :  pious  vows, 
nine  days'  prayers,  and  offerings  having  been  tried  in  all 
manners,  but  all  to  no  purpose,  she  was  at  last  obliged 
to  return  to  natural  means. 

What  would  she  have  given  on  this  occasion  for  the 
ring  which  Archbishop  Turpin  wore  on  his  finger,  and 
which  made  Charlemagne  run  after  him,  in  the  same 
manner  as  it  had  made  him  nni  after  one  of  his  concu- 
bines, from  whose  finger  Turpin  had  taken  it  after  her 
death  !  But  it  is  now  many  years  since  the  only  talis- 
mans for  creating  love  are  the  charms  of  the  person 
beloved,  and  foreign  enchantments  have  been  looked 
upon  as  ineffectual.  The  queen's  physicians,  men  of 
great  prudence,  sagacity,  and  wisdom,  as  they  always 
are,  having  duly  weighed  and  considered  that  the  cold 
waters  of  Tunbridge  had  not  succeeded  in  the  preceding 
year,  concluded  that  it  would  be  advisable  for  her  to  try 
the  warm  baths  at  Bristol.*  This  journey  was  therefore 
fixed  for  the  next  season  ;  and  in  the  confidence  of  its 


*  I  believe  that  Bath,  not  Bristol,  is  the  place  intenrled  by  the  author. 
Queen  Katheriiie's  visit  to  the  former  place  was  earlier  than  to  Tun- 
bridge, being  about  the  latter  end  of  September,  1663.  See  IVood's 
Description  of  Bath,  vol.  i.,  p.  217.  I  do  not  find  she  ever  was  at 
Bristol,  but  at  the  time  mentioned  in  the  following  extract : 

"  1663.  Sir  John  Knight,  mayor.  John  Broadway,  Richard  Stremer, 
sheriffs. 

"The  5th  of  September,  the  king  and  queen,  with  James,  Duke  of 
York,  and  his  Duchess,  and  Prince  Rupert,  etc.,  came  to  Bristol,  and 
were  splendidly  received  and  entertained  by  the  ma3'or,  at  a  dinner 
provided  on  the  occasion.  They  returned  to  Bath  at  four  o'clock.  150 
pieces  of  ordnance  were  discharged  in  the  Marsh,  at  three  distinct 
times." — Barrett's  History,  etc.,  of  Bristol,  p.  692. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT 


GRAM  MONT. 


341 


proving  effectual,  this  exxiirsion  would  have  afforded  her 
much  pleasure,  if  the  most  dangerous  of  her  rivals  had 
not  been  one  of  the  first  that  was  appointed  to  attend  the 
court.  The  Duchess  of  Cleveland  being  then  near  her 
time,  there  was  no  uneasiness  on  her  account  ;  the  com- 
mon rules  of  decency  required  a  little  attention.  The 
public,  it  is  true,  was  not  either  more  or  less  acquainted 
with  the  circumstances  of  her  situation ;  by  the  care 
which  she  now  took  to  conceal  it  ;  but  her  appearing  at 
court  in  her  present  condition  would  have  been  too  great 
an  insult  to  the  queen.  Miss  Stewart,  more  handsome 
than  ever,  was  appointed  for  this  excursion,  and  began 
to  make  magnificent  preparations.  The  poor  queen 
durst  .say  nothing  against  it;  but  all  hopes  of  success 
immediately  forsook  her.  What  could  the  baths,  or  the 
feeble  virtue  of  the  waters  perform  against  charms  that 
entirely  counteracted  their  effects,  either  through  the 
grief  and  uneasiness  they  occasioned  her,  or  by  their 
still  more  powerful  consequences  ? 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  to  whom  all  pleasures 
were  insipid  without  the  presence  of  jNIiss  Hamilton, 
was  yet  unable  to  excuse  himself  from  attending  the 
court:  the  king  delighted  too  much  in  his  sprightly  con- 
versation to  leave  him  behind;  and  however  pleasing 
his  company  might  have  been  in  the  solitude  occasioned 
by  the  absence  of  the  court.  Miss  Hamilton  did  not 
think  it  right  to  accept  his  offer  of  staying  in  town, 
because  she  was  obliged  to  remain  there  :  .she,  however, 
granted  him  the  permission  of  writing  her  an  accoiint  of 
any  news  that  might  occur  upon  the  journey.  He  failed 
not  to  make  use  of  this  permission,  in  such  a  manner  as 
one  may  imagine;  and  his  own  concerns  took  up  so  much 
space  in  his  letters,  that  there  was  very  little  room  left 
for  other  subjects  during  his  stay  at  the  baths.  As 
absence  from  the  object  of  his  affections  rendered  this 
place  insupportable,  he  engaged  in  everything  that 
might  dissipate  his  impatience,  until  the  happy  moment 
of  return  arrived. 


342 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


He  had  a  great  esteem  for  the  elder  of  the  Hamiltoiis  ; 
no  less  esteem,  and  far  more  friendship  for  his  brother, 
whom  he  made  the  confidant  of  his  passion  and  attach- 
ment for  his  sister.  The  Chevalier  was  also  acquainted 
with  his  first  engagements  with  his  cousin  Wetenhall  ; 
but  being  ignorant  of  the  coldness  that  had  interrupted 
a  commerce  so  brisk  in  its  commencement,  he  was  sur- 
prised at  the  eagerness  he  showed  upon  all  occasions  to 
please  Miss  Stewart:  his  assiduity  appeared  to  the  Chev- 
alier de  Grammont  to  exceed  those  civilities  and  atten- 
tions that  are  usually  paid  for  the  purpose  of  making 
court  to  the  favorites  of  princes.  He  obser\-ed  him  more 
strictly,  and  soon  perceived  that  he  was  deeper  in  love 
with  her  than  was  consistent  either  with  his  fortune  or 
his  repose.  As  soon  as  the  remarks  he  made  had  con- 
firmed him  in  his  suspicions,  he  resolved  to  use  his 
endeavors  to  prevent  the  consequences  of  an  engage- 
ment pernicious  in  every  respect :  but  he  waited  for 
a  proper  opportunity  of  speaking  to  him  upon  the  sub- 
ject. 

In  the  meantime,  the  court  enjoyed  every  kind  of 
diversion,  in  a  place  where  amusement  is  sought  with 
avidity.  The  game  of  bowls,  which  in  France  is  the 
pastime  of  mechanics  and  servants  only,  is  quite  the 
contrar}-  in  England,  where  it  is  the  exercise  of  gentle- 
men, and  requires  both  art  and  address:  it  is  only  in  iise 
during  the  fair  and  dry  part  of  the  season,  and  the  places 
where  it  is  practised  are  channing,  delicious  walks, 
called  bowling-greens,  which  are  little  square  grass-plots, 
where  the  turf  is  almost  as  smooth  and  level  as  the  cloth 
of  a  billiard  table.  As  soon  as  the  heat  of  the  day  is 
over,  all  the  company  assemble  there  :  they  play  deep  : 
and  spectators  are  at  liberty  to  make  what  bets  they 
please. 

The  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  long  before  initiated  in 
the  English  games  and  diversions,  had  been  engaged  in 
a  horse-race,  in  which  he  was  indeed  unsuccessful  ;  but 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


343 


he  had  the  satisfaction  of  being  convinced  by  experience, 
that  an  English  horse  can  go  twenty  miles  npon  the  high 
road  in  less  than  an  hour.  He  was  more  fortunate  at 
cock-fighting;  and,  in  the  bets  he  made  at  the  bowling- 
green,  the  party  he  betted  upon  never  failed  to  win. 

Near  all  these  places  of  diversion  there  is  tisually  a 
sort  of  inn,  or  house  of  entertainment,  with  a  bower  or 
arbor,  in  which  are  sold  all  sorts  of  English  liquors,  such 
as  cider,  mead,  bottled  beer,  and  Spanish  wines.  Here 
the  rooks  meet  every  evening  to  drink,  smoke,  and  to 
try  their  skill  upon  each  other,  or,  in  other  words,  to 
endeavor  to  trick  one  another  out  of  the  winnings  of  the 
day.  These  rooks  are,  properly  speaking,  what  we  call 
capons  or  piqueurs  in  France;  men  who  always  carry 
money  about  them,  to  enable  them  to  lend  to  losing 
gamesters,  for  which  they  receive  a  gratification,  which 
is  nothing  for  such  as  play  deep,  as  it  is  only  two  per 
cent. ,  and  the  money  to  be  repaid  the  next  day. 

These  gentlemen  are  so  nice  in  their  calculations,  and 
so  particularly  skilful  in  all  manner  of  games,  that  no 
person  would  dare  to  enter  the  lists  with  them,  were 
they  even  assured  that  no  unfairness  would  be  practised. 
Besides,  they  make  a  vow  to  win  four  or  five  guineas  a 
day,  and  to  be  satisfied  with  that  gain;  a  vow  which  they 
seldom  or  never  break. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  a  company  of  these  rooks,  that 
Hamilton  found  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  when 
he  called  in  one  evening  to  get  a  glass  of  cider.  They 
were  playing  at  hazard;  and  as  he  who  holds  the  dice  is 
supposed  to  have  the  advantage,  the  rooks  did  the  Chev- 
alier de  Grammont  that  honor  out  of  compliment:  he  had 
the  dice  in  his  hand  when  Hamilton  came  into  the  room. 
The  rooks,  secure  of  their  odds,  were  betting  against  him 
at  a  high  rate,  and  he  took  all. 

Hamilton  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes,  to  see  a  man 
of  his  experience  and  knowledge  engaged  in  so  unequal 
a  contest;  but  it  was  to  no  purpose  that  he  informed  him 


344  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


of  his  danger,  both  aloud  in  French,  and  in  private  by 
signs;  he  still  disregarded  his  warnings,  and  the  dice, 
that  bore  Csesar  and  his  fortunes,  performed  a  miracle  in 
his  favor.  The  rooks  were  defeated  for  the  first  time, 
but  not  without  bestowing  upon  him  all  the  encomiums 
and  praises  of  being  a  very  fair  and  honorable  player, 
which  they  never  fail  to  lavish  iipon  those  whom  they 
wish  to  engage  a  second  time;  but  all  their  commenda- 
tions were  lost,  and  their  hopes  deceived:  the  Chevalier 
was  satisfied  with  the  first  experiment. 

Hamilton,  when  the  king  was  at  supper,  related  to  him 
how  he  found  the  Chevalier  de  Grammont  rashly  en- 
gaged with  the  rooks,  and  in  what  manner  he  had  been 
providentially  preserved.  "  Indeed,  Sir,"  said  the  Chev- 
alier de  Grammont,  "the  rooks  were  discomfited  for 
once;"  and  thereupon  related  the  adventure  to  His 
Majesty  in  his  usual  way,  attracting  the  attention  of  all 
the  company,  to  a  circumstance,  trifling  in  itself,  but 
rendered  interesting  by  his  humor. 

After  supper  Miss  Stewart,  in  whose  apartment  there 
was  play,  called  Hamilton  to  her  to  tell  the  story.  The 
Chevalier  de  Grammont,  perceiving  that  she  attended  to 
him  with  pleasure,  was  fully  confirmed  in  the  truth  of 
his  first  conjectures;  and,  having  carried  Hamilton  home 
with  him  to  supper,  they  began  to  discourse  freely  to- 
gether as  usual:  "George,"  said  the  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
mont, "are  you  in  any  want  of  money?  I  know  you 
love  pla}':  perhaps  it  may  not  be  so  favorable  to  you  as 
it  is  to  me.  We  are  at  a  great  distance  from  London. 
Here  are  two  hundred  guineas:  take  them,  I  beseech 
you;  they  will  do  to  play  with  at  Miss  Stewart's." 
Hamilton,  who  little  expected  this  conclusion,  was 
rather  disconcerted.  "How?  at  Miss  Stewart's!" 
"Yes,  in  her  apartments.  Friend  George,"  continued 
the  Chevalier  de  Grammont,  "I  have  not  yet  lost  my 
eyes:  you  are  in  love  with  her,  and,  if  I  am  not  mistaken, 
she  is  n?)t  offended  at  it;  but  tell  me  how  you  could 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


345 


resolve  to  banish  poor  Weteiihall  from  your  heart,  and 
suffer  }-ourself  to  be  infatuated  with  a  girl,  who  perhaps 
after  all  is  not  worth  the  other,  and  who,  besides,  what- 
ever favorable  dispositions  she  may  have  for  you,  will 
undoubtedly  in  the  end  prove  )'our  ruin.  Faith,  your 
brother  and  you  are  two  pretty  fellows  in  your  choice. 
What!  can  you  find  no  other  beauties  in  all  the  court  to 
fall  in  love  with  except  the  king's  two  mistresses!  As 
for  the  elder  brother,  I  can  pardon  him:  he  only  took 
Lady  Castlemaine  after  his  master  had  done  with  her, 
and  after  Lady  Chesterfield  had  discarded  him;  but,  as 
for  you,  what  the  devil  do  }  ou  intend  to  do  with  a  creat- 
ure on  whom  the  king  seems  every  day  to  dote  with 
increasing  fondness?  Is  it  because  that  drunken  sot 
Richmond  has  again  come  forward,  and  now  declares 
himself  one  of  her  professed  admirers?  You  will  soon 
see  what  he  will  make  by  it:  I  have  not  forgotten  what 
the  king  said  to  me  upon  the  subject. 

"Believe  me,  my  dear  friend,  there  is  no  playing 
tricks  with  our  masters;  I  mean,  there  is  no  ogling  their 
mistresses.  I  myself  wanted  to  play  the  agreeable  in 
France  with  a  little  coquette  whom  the  king  did  not  care 
about,  and  you  know  how  dearly  I  paid  for  it.  I  confess 
she  gives  you  fair  plaj-,  but  do  not  trust  to  her.  All  the 
sex  feel  an  unspeakable  satisfaction  at  having  men  in 
their  train,  whom  they  care  not  for,  and  to  use  them  as 
their  slaves  of  state,  merely  to  swell  their  equipage. 
Would  it  not  be  a  great  deal  better  to  pass  a  week  or  ten 
days  incognito  at  Peckham,  with  the  philosopher  Weten- 
hall's  wife,  than  to  have  it  inserted  in  the  Dutch  Gazette 
— We  hear  from  Bristol  that  such  a  one  is  bani.shed  the 
court  on  account  of  Miss  Stewart,  and  that  he  is  going 
to  make  a  campaign  in  Guinea*  on  board  the  fleet  that 


*This  expedition  was  intended  to  have  taken  place  in  1664.  A  full 
account  of  it,  and  how  it  came  to  be  laid  aside,  maj'  be  seen  in  the 
Continuation  of  Clarendon' s  Life,  p.  225. 


346  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAM  MONT, 


is  fitting  out  for  the  expedition,  under  the  command  of 
Prince  Rupert?" 

Hamilton,  who  was  the  more  convinced  of  the  truth 
of  this  discourse,  the  more  he  considered  it,  after  musing- 
some  time,  appeared  to  wake  from  a  dream,  and  address- 
ing himself  with  an  air  of  gratitude  to  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammont:  "Of  all  the  men  in  the  world,  my  dear 
friend,"  said  he,  "you  have  the  most  agreeable  wit,  and 
at  the  same  time  the  clearest  judgment  with  respect  to 
your  friends:  what  you  have  told  me  has  opened  my 
eyes.  I  began  to  suffer  myself  to  be  seduced  by  the  most 
ridiculous  illusion  imaginable,  and  to  be  hurried  away 
rather  by  frivolous  appearances  than  any  real  inclination: 
to  you  I  owe  the  obligation  of  having  preserved  me  from 
destruction  at  the  very  brink  of  a  precipice.  This  is  not 
the  only  kindness  you  have  done  me — your  favors  have 
been  innumerable;  and,  as  a  proof  of  my  gratitude  for 
this  last,  I  will  follow  your  advice,  and  go  into  retire- 
ment at  my  cousin  Wetenhall's,  to  eradicate  from  my 
recollection  every  trace  of  those  chimeras  which  lately 
possessed  my  brain;  but  so  far  from  going  thither  incog- 
nito, I  will  take  you  along  with  me,  as  soon  as  the  court 
returns  to  London.  My  sister  shall  likewise  be  of  the 
party,  for  it  is  prudent  to  use  all  precautions  with  a  man 
who,  with  a  great  deal  of  merit,  on  such  occasions  is  not 
over-scrupulous,  if  we  may  credit  your  philosopher." 
"Do  not  pay  any.  attention  to  that  pedant,"  replied  the 
Chevalier  de  Grammont;  "but  tell  me  what  put  it  into 
your  head  to  form  a  design  upon  that  inanimate  statue. 
Miss  Stewart?"  "How  the  devil  should  I  know?"  said 
Hamilton;  "you  are  acquainted  with  all  her  childish 
amusements.  The  old  Lord  Carlingford*  was  at  her 
apartment  one  evening,  showing  her  how  to  hold  a 


*  Sir  Theobald  Taaffe,  the  secoiul  Viscount  Taaffe,  created  Earl  of 
Carlingford,  in  the  county  of  Louth,  by  privy  seal,  17th  June,  1661, 
and  by  patent,  26th  June,  1662. — He  died  31st  December,  1677. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


347 


lighted  wax  candle  in  her  mouth,  and  the  grand  secret 
consisted  in  keeping  the  burning  end  there  a  long  time 
without  its  being  extinguished.  I  have,  thank  God,  a 
pretty  large  mouth,  and,  in  order  to  out-do  her  teacher, 
I  took  two  candles  into  my  mouth  at  the  same  time,  and 
walked  three  times  round  the  room  without  their  <roino- 
out.  Every  person  present  adjudged  me  the  prize  of  this 
illustrious  experiment,  and  Killegrew  maintained  that 
nothing  but  a  lanthorn  could  stand  in  competition  with 
me.  Upon  this  she  was  like  to  die  with  laughing;  and 
thus  was  I  admitted  into  the  familiarity  of  her  amuse- 
ments. It  is  impossible  to  deny  her  being  one  of  the 
most  charming  creatures  that  ever  was:  since  the  covirt 
has  been  in  the  country  I  have  had  a  hundred  opportu- 
nities of  seeing  her,  which  I  had  not  before.  You  know 
that  the  dishabille  of  the  bath  is  a  great  convenience  for 
those  ladies  who,  strictly  adhering  to  all  the  rules  of 
decorum,  are  yet  desirous  to  display  all  their  charms  and 
attractions.  Miss  Stewart  is  so  fully  acquainted  with  the 
advantages  she  possesses  over  all  other  women,  that  it  is 
hardly  possible  to  praise  any  lady  at  court  for  a  well- 
tunied  ann,  and  a  fine  leg,  but  she  is  ever  ready  to  dis- 
pute the  point  by  demonstration;  and  I  really  believe 
that,  with  a  little  address,  it  would  not  be  difficult  to 
induce  her  to  strip  naked,  without  ever  reflecting  upon 
what  she  was  doing.  After  all,  a  man  must  be  very 
insensible  to  remain  unconcerned  and  unmoved  on  such 
happy  occasions;  and,  besides,  the  good  opinion  we 
entertain  of  ourselves  is  apt  to  make  us  think  a  woman 
is  smitten  as  soon  as  she  distinguishes  us  by  habitual 
familiarity,  which  most  commonly  signifies  nothing. 
This  is  the  truth  of  the  matter  with  respect  to  myself : 
my  own  presumption,  her  beauty,  the  brilliant  station 
that  sets  it  off,  and  a  thousand  kind  things  she  had  .said 
to  me,  prevented  me-from  making  serious  reflections;  but 
then,  as  some  excuse  for  my  folly,  I  must  likewise  tell 
you  that  the  facility  I  found  in  making  her  the  tenderest 


348 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


declarations  by  coniinending  her,  and  her  telling  me  in 
confidence  a  thousand  things  which  she  ought  not  to 
have  entrusted  me  with,  might  have  deceived  or  infatu- 
ated any  other  man  as  well  as  myself. 

"I  presented  her  with  one  of  the  prettiest  horses  in 
England.  You  know  what  peculiar  grace  and  elegance 
distinguish  her  on  horseback.  The  king,  who,  of  all  the 
diversions  of  the  chase,  likes  none  but  hawking,  because 
it  is  the  most  convenient  for  the  ladies,  went  out  the 
other  day  to  take  this  amusement,  attended  by  all  the 
beauties  of  his  court.  His  majesty  having  galloped  after 
a  falcon,  and  the  whole  bright  squadron  after  him,  the 
rustling  of  Miss  Stewart's  petticoats  frightened  her  horse, 
which  was  at  full  speed,  endeavoring  to  come  up  with 
mine,  that  had  been  his  companion  ;  so  that  I  was  the 
only  witness  of  a  disorder  in  her  clothes,  which  displayed 
a  thousand  new  beauties  to  my  view.  I  had  the  good 
fortune  to  make  such  gallant  and  flattering  exclamations 
upon  that  charming  disorder  as  to  prevent  her  being  con- 
cerned or  out  of  countenance  upon  it  :  on  the  contrary, 
this  subject  of  my  admiration  has  been  frequently  since 
the  subject  of  our  conversation,  and  did  not  seem  to  dis- 
please her. 

"Old  Lord  Carlingford,  and  that  mad  fellow,  Crofts* 
(for  I  mnst  now  make  you  my  general  confession),  those 
insipid  buffoons,  were  frequently  telling  her  some  divert- 
ing stories,  which  passed  pretty  well  with  the  help  of  a 
few  old  threadbare  jests,  or  some  apish  tricks  in  the  re- 
cital, which  made  her  laugh  heartily.  As  for  myself, 
who  know  no  stories,  and  do  not  possess  the  talent  of 


*  William,  Baron  of  Crofts,  groom  of  the  stole,  and  gentleman  of 
the  bed-chamber  to  the  Duke  of  York  ;  captain  of  a  regiment  of 
guards  of  the  queen-mother,  gentleman  of  the  bed-chamber  to  the 
king,  and  ambassador  to  Poland.  He  had  been  sent  to  France  by  the 
Duke  of  York,  to  congratulate  Louis  XIV.  on  the  birth  of  the  dauphin. 
See  Bioff.  Brit,  old  Ed.,  vol.  iv.,  p.  2738,  and  Continuation  of  Claren- 
don, p.  294. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


349 


improving  thcni  by  telling-,  if  I  did  know  any,  I  was  often 
greatly  embarrassed  when  she  desired  me  to  tell  her  one: 
'I  do  not  know  one,  indeed,'  said  I,  one  day  when  she 
was  teazing  me  on  the  subject.  '  Invent  one,  then,'  said 
she.  '  That  would  be  still  more  difficult,'  replied  I; 
'but  if  you  will  give  me  leave,  madam,  I  will  relate  to 
)ou  a  very  extraordinary  dream,  which  has,  however, 
less  appearance  of  truth  in  it  than  dreams  generally 
have.'  This  excited  her  curiosity,  which  would  brook 
no  denial.  I  therefore  began  to  tell  her  that  the  most 
beautiful  creature  in  the  world,  whom  I  loved  to  distrac- 
tion, paid  me  a  visit  in  my  sleep.  I  then  drew  her  own 
portrait,  with  a  rapturous  description  of  all  her  beauties; 
adding,  that  this  goddess,  who  came  to  visit  me  with  the 
most  favorable  intentions,  did  not  counteract  them  by 
any  imreasonable  cruelty.  This  was  not  sufficient  to 
satisfy  Miss  Stewart's  curiosity  :  I  was  obliged  to  relate 
every  particular  circumstance  of  the  kindness  I  experi- 
enced from  this  delicate  phantom  ;  to  which  she  was  so 
very  attentive,  that  she  never  once  appeared  surprised 
or  disconcerted  at  the  luscious  tale.  On  the  contrary, 
she  made  me  repeat  the  description  of  the  beauty,  which 
I  drew  as  near  as  possible  after  her  own  person,  and  after 
such  charms  as  I  imagined  of  beauties  that  were  un- 
known to  me. 

"This  is,  in  fact,  the  very  thing  that  had  almost  de- 
prived me  of  my  senses  :  she  knew  very  well  that  she 
herself  was  the  person  I  was  describing  :  we  were  alone, 
as  you  may  imagine,  when  I  told  her  this  story ;  and  my 
eyes  did  their  utmost  to  persuade  her  that  it  was  herself 
whom  I  drew.  I  perceived  that  she  was  not  in  the  least 
offended  at  knowing  this  ;  nor  was  her  modesty  in  the 
least  alarmed  at  the  relation  of  a  fiction,  which  I  might 
have  concluded  in  a  manner  still  less  discreet,  if  I  had 
thought  proper.  This  patient  audience  made  me  plunge 
headlong  into  the  ocean  of  flattering  ideas  that  presented 
themselves  to  my  imagination.   I  then  no  longer  thought 


350  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


of  the  king,  nor  how  passionately  fond  he  was  of  her, 
nor  of  the  dangers  attendant  upon  such  an  engagement : 
in  short,  I  know  not  what  the  devil  I  was  thinking  of : 
but  I  am  very  certain  that,  if  you  had  not  been  thinking 
for  me,  I  might  have  found  my  ruin  in  the  midst  of  these 
distracted  visions." 

Not  long  after,  the  court  returned  to  London  ;  and 
from  that  time,  some  malevolent  star  having  gained  the 
ascendant,  everything  went  cross  in  the  empire  of  Love: 
vexation,  suspicions,  or  jealousies,  first  entered  the  field, 
to  set  all  hearts  at  variance  ;  next,  false  reports,  slander, 
and  disputes,  completed  the  ruin  of  all. 

The  Duchess  of  Cleveland  had  been  brought  to  bed 
while  the  court  was  at  Bristol ;  and  never  before  had  she 
recovered  from  her  lying-in  with  such  a  profusion  of 
charms.  This  made  her  believe  that  she  was  in  a  proper 
state  to  retrieve  her  ancient  rights  over  the  king's  heart, 
if  she  had  an  opportunity  of  appearing  before  him  with 
this  increased  splendor.  Her  friends  being  of  the  same 
opinion,  her  equipage  was  prepared  for  this  expedition  ; 
but  the  very  evening  before  the  day  she  had  fixed  on  to 
set  out,  she  saw  young  Churchill,*  and  was  at  once 
seized  with  a  disease,  which  had  more  than  once  opposed 
her  projects,  and  which  she  could  never  completely  get 
the  better  of. 


*  Afterwards  the  celebrated  Duke  of  Marlborough.  He  was  born 
midsummer  day,  1650,  and  died  June  16,  1722.  Bishop  Burnet  takes 
notice  of  the  discovery  of  this  intrigue.  ' '  The  Duchess  of  Cleveland 
finding  that  she  had  lost  the  king,  abandoned  herself  to  great  dis- 
orders ;  one  of  which,  by  the  artifice  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  was 
discovered  by  the  king  in  person,  the  party  concerned  leaping  out  of 
the  window." — History  of  his  Oivn  Times,  vol.  i.,  p.  370.  This  was  in 
1668.  A  very  particular  account  of  this  intrigue  is  to  be  seen  in  the 
Atalantis  of  Mrs.  Manley,  vol.  i.,  p.  30.  The  same  writer,  who  had 
lived  as  companion  to  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  says,  in  the  account 
of  her  own  life,  that  she  was  an  eye-witness  when  the  duke,  who  had 
received  thousands  from  the  duchess,  refused  the  common  civility  of 
lending  her  twenty  guineas  at  basset.  —  Tlic  History  of  Kivelta,  4th  ed., 
1725.  P-  33- 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


351 


A  man  who,  from  an  ensign  in  the  guards,  was  raised 
to  such  a  fortune,  niiist  certainly  possess  an  uncommon 
share  of  prudence,  not  to  be  intoxicated  with  his  happi- 
ness. Churchill  boasted  in  all  places  of  the  new  favor 
he  had  received  :  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  who  neither 
recommended  to  him  circumspection  in  his  behavior,  nor 
in  his  conversation,  did  not  seem  to  be  in  the  least  con- 
cerned at  his  indiscretion.  Thus  this  intrigue  was  be- 
come a  general  topic  in  all  companies,  when  the  court 
arrived  in  London,  and  occasioned  an  immense  nmn- 
ber  of  speculations  and  reasonings  :  some  said  she  had 
already  presented  him  with  Jermyn's  pension  and  Jacob 
Hall's  salary,  because  the  merits  and  qualifications  of 
both  were  united  in  his  person  :  others  maintained  that 
he  had  too  indolent  an  air,  and  too  delicate  a  shape,  long 
to  maintain  himself  in  her  favor ;  but  all  agreed  that  a 
man  who  was  the  favorite  of  the  king's  mistress,  and 
brother  to  the  duke's  favorite,  was  in  a  fair  way  of  pre- 
ferment, and  could  not  fail  to  make  his  fortune.  As  a 
proof,  the  Duke  of  York  soon  after  gave  him  a  place  in 
his  hou.sehold :  this  was  naturally  to  be  expected  ;  but 
the  king,  who  did  not  think  that  Lady  Cleveland's  kind- 
ness to  him  was  a  sufficient  recommendation  to  his  favor, 
thought  proper  to  forbid  him  the  court. 

This  good-natured  king  began  now  to  be  rather 
peevish  :  nor  was  it  altogether  without  reason  :  he  dis- 
turbed no  person  in  their  amours,  and  yet  others  had 
often  the  presumption  to  encroach  upon  his.  Lord 
Dorset,  first  lord  of  the  bed-chamber,  had  lately  de- 
bauched from  his  service  Nell  Gwyn,   the  actress.* 


*  On  this  passage,  the  first  translator  of  this  work,  Mr.  Boyer,  has 
the  following  note  :  "  The  author  of  these  memoirs  is  somewhat  mistaken 
in  this  particular  ;  for  Nell  Gwyn  was  my  Lord  Dorset's  mistress,  before 
the  king  fell  in  love  with  her  ;  and  I  was  told  by  the  late  Mr.  Drydcn, 
that  the  king,  having  a  mind  to  get  her  from  his  lordship,  sent  him  upon 
a  sleeveless  errand  to  France.  However,  it  is  not  improbable  that  Nell 
was  aftersvards  kind  to  her  first  lover."    Of  the  early  part  of  Nell's 


352  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT, 

Lady  Cleveland,  whom  he  now  no  longer  regarded,  con- 
tinued to  disgrace  him  by  repeated  infidelities  with  un- 
worthy rivals,  and  almost  ruined  him  by  the  immense 


life,  little  is  known  but  what  may  be  collected  from  the  lampoons  of 
the  times  ;  in  which  it  is  said  that  she  was  born  in  a  night-cellar,  sold 
fish  about  the  streets,  rambled  from  tavern  to  tavern,  entertaining  the 
company  after  dinner  and  supper  with  songs  (her  voice  being  very 
agreeable)  ;  was  next  taken  into  the  house  of  Madame  Ross,  a  noted 
courtezan  ;  and  was  afterwards  admitted  into  the  theatre,  where  she 
became  the  mistress  of  both  Hart  and  Lacey,  the  celebrated  actors. 
Other  accounts  say  she  was  born  in  a  cellar  in  the  Coal-yard  in  Drury- 
lane  ;  and  that  she  was  first  taken  notice  of  when  selling  oranges  in  the 
play-house.  She  belonged  to  the  king's  company  at  Drury-lane,  and, 
according  to  Downes,  was  received  as  an  actress  a  few  years  after  that 
house  was  opened,  in  1663.  The  first  notice  I  find  of  her  is  in  the  year 
1668,  when  she  performed  in  Dryden's  play  of  "Secret  Love;"  after 
which  she  may  be  traced  every  year  until  1672,  when  I  conjecture  she 
quitted  the  stage.  Her  forte  appears  to  have  been  comedy.  In  an 
epilogue  to  "  Tyrannic  Love,"  spoken  by  her,  she  says 

 I  walk,  because  I  die 

Out  of  my  calling  in  a  tragedy. 

And  from  the  same  authority  it  may  be  collected  that  her  person  was 
small,  and  she  was  negligent  in  her  dress.  Her  son,  the  Duke  of  St. 
Albans,  was  born  before  she  left  the  stage,  viz..  May  8,  1670.  Bishop 
Burnet  speaks  of  her  in  these  terms  :  "  Gwyn,  the  indiscreetest  and  wild- 
est creature  that  ever  was  in  a  court,  continued,  to  the  end  of  the  king's 
life,  in  great  favor,  and  was  maintained  at  a  vast  expense.  The  Duke 
of  Buckingham  told  me,  that  when  she  was  first  brought  to  the  king, 
she  asked  only  500  pounds  a-year,  and  the  king  refused  it.  But  when 
he  told  me  this,  about  four  years  after,  he  said  she  had  got  of  the  king 
above  60,000  pounds.  She  acted  all  persons  in  so  livel)^  a  manner, 
and  was  such  a  constant  diversion  to  the  king,  that  even  a  new  mis- 
tress could  not  drive  her  way  ;  but,  after  all,  he  never  treated  her 
with  the  decencies  of  a  mistress." — History  of  his  Orvn  Times,  vol.  i., 
p.  369.  The  same  author  notices  the  king's  attention  to  her  on  his 
death-bed.  Gibber,  who  was  dissatisfied  with  the  bishop's  account  of 
Nell,  says, — "  If  we  consider  her  in  all  the  disadvantages  of  her  rank 
and  education,  she  does  not  appear  to  have  had  any  criminal  errors, 
more  remarkable  than  her  sex's  frailt}-,  to  answer  for  ;  and  if  the  same 
author,  in  his  latter  end  of  that  prince's  life,  seems  to  reproach  his 
memory  with  too  kind  a  concern  for  her  support,  we  may  allow  it  be- 
comes a  bishop  to  have  had  no  e3-es  or  taste  for  the  frivolous  charms  or 
playful  badinage  of  a  king's  mistress.    Yet,  if  the  common  fame  of  her 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


353 


sums  she  lavished  on  her  gallants ;  but  that  which  most 
sensibly  affected  him,  was  the  late  coldness  and  threats 
of  Miss  Stewart.    He  long  since  had  offered  her  all  the 


may  be  believed,  which,  in  my  memory,  was  not  doubted,  she  had  less 
to  be  laid  to  her  charge  than  any  other  of  those  ladies  who  were  in  the 
same  state  of  preferment.  She  never  meddled  in  matters  of  serious 
moment,  or  was  the  tool  of  working  politicians  ;  never  broke  into  those 
amorous  infidelities  which  others,  in  that  grave  author,  are  accused  of ; 
but  was  as  visibly  distinguished  by  her  particular  personal  inclination 
to  the  king,  as  her  rivals  were  by  their  titles  and  grandeur." — Cidber's 
Apology,  8vo,  p.  450.  One  of  Madame  Sevign^'s  letters  exhibits  no  bad 
portrait  of  Mrs.  Gwyn. — "Mademoiselle  de  K— —  (Kerouaille,  after- 
wards Duchess  of  Portsmouth)  has  not  been  disappointed  in  anything 
she  proposed.  She  desired  to  be  mistress  to  the  king,  and  she  is  so  : 
he  lodges  with  her  almost  every  night,  in  the  face  of  all  the  court :  she 
has  had  a  son,  who  has  been  acknowledged,  and  presented  with  two 
duchies  :  she  amasses  treasure,  and  makes  herself  feared  and  respected 
by  as  many  as  she  can.  But  she  did  not  foresee  that  she  should  find  a 
young  actressin  her  way,  whom  the  king  dotes  on  ;  and  she  has  it  not  in 
her  power  to  withdraw  him  from  her.  He  divides  his  care,  his  time,  and 
his  health,  between  these  two.  The  actress  is  as  haughtj'  as  Mademoi- 
selle :  she  insults  her,  she  makes  grimaces  at  her,  she  attacks  her,  she 
frequently  steals  the  king  from  her,  and  boasts  whenever  he  gives  her 
the  preference.  She  is  young,  indiscreet,  confident,  wild,  and  of  an 
agreeable  humor:  she  sings,  she  dances,  she  acts  her  part  with  a  good 
grace.  She  has  a  son  by  the  king,  and  hopes  to  have  him  acknowledged. 
As  to  Mademoiselle,  she  reasons  thus  :  This  duchess,  says  she,  pretends 
to  be  a  person  of  quality :  she  says  she  is  related  to  the  best  families  in 
France  :  whenever  any  person  of  distinction  dies,  she  puts  herself  in 
mourning. — If  she  be  a  lady  of  such  quality,  why  does  she  demean  her- 
self to  be  a  courtezan  ?  She  ought  to  die  with  shame.  As  for  me,  it  is 
my  profession  :  I  do  not  pretend  to  anything  better.  He  has  a  son  by 
me  :  I  pretend  that  he  ought  to  acknowledge  him  ;  and  I  am  well 
assured  he  will ;  for  he  loves  me  as  well  as  Mademoiselle.  This  crea- 
ture gets  the  upper  hand,  and  discountenances  and  embarrasses  the 
duchess  extremely."— Z.<!'//d'r  92.  Mr.  Pennant  says,  "  She  resided  at 
her  house,  in  what  was  then  called  Pail-Mall.  It  is  the  first  good  one 
on  the  left  hand  of  St.  James's-square,  as  we  enter  from  Pail-Mall.  The 
back-room  on  the  ground  floor  was  (within  memory)  entirely  of  looking 
glass,  as  was  said  to  have  been  the  ceiling.  Over  the  chimney  was  her 
picture ;  and  that  of  her  sister  was  in  a  third  room." — London,  p.  loi. 
At  this  house  she  died,  in  the  year  1691,  and  was  pompously  interred 
in  the  parish  church  of  St.  Martin's  in  the  fields  ;  Dr.  Tenuison,  then 
vicar,  and  afterwards  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  preaching  her  funeral 
23 


354  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 

settlements  and  all  the  titles  she  could  desire,  until  he 
had  an  opportunity  more  effectually  to  provide  for  her, 
which  she  had  pretended  only  to  decline,  for  fear  of  the 
scandal  they  might  occasion,  on  her  being  raised  to  a 
rank  which  would  attract  the  public  notice  ;  but  since 
the  return  of  the  court,  she  had  given  herself  other  airs : 
sometimes  she  was  for  retiring  from  court,  to  appease 
the  continual  uneasiness  her  presence  gave  the  queen : 
at  other  times  it  was  to  avoid  temptations,  by  which  she 
wished  to  insinuate  that  her  innocence  was  still  pre- 
served :  in  short,  the  king's  heart  was  continually  dis- 
tracted by  alarms,  or  oppressed  by  humor  and  caprice. 

As  he  could  not  for  his  life  imagine  what  Miss  Stewart 
wished  him  to  do,  or  what  she  would  be  at,  he  thought 
upon  reforming  his  establishment  of  mistresses,  to  try 
whether  jealousy  was  not  the  real  occasion  of  her  uneasi- 
ness. It  was  for  this  reason  that,  after  having  solemnly 
declared  he  would  have  nothing  more  to  say  to  the 
Duchess  of  Cleveland,  since  her  intrigue  with  Churchill, 
he  discarded,  without  any  exception,  all  the  other  mis- 
tresses which  he  had  in  the  various  parts  of  the  town. 
The  Nell  Gwyns,  the  Misses  Davis,*  and  the  joyous  train 


sermon.  This  sermon,  we  learn,  was  shortly  afterwards  brought  for- 
wards at  court  by  Lord  Jersey,  to  impede  the  doctor's  preferment :  but 
Queen  Mary,  having  heard  the  oVyection,  answered — "  What  then  ?  "  in 
a  sort  of  discomposure  to  which  she  was  but  little  subject ;  "  I  have 
heard  as  much  :  this  is  a  sign  that  that  poor  unfortunate  woman  died 
penitent ;  for,  if  I  can  read  a  man's  heart  through  his  looks,  had  not  she 
made  a  pious  and  Christian  end,  the  doctor  could  never  have  been  in- 
duced to  speak  well  of  her." — Life  of  Dr.  Thomas  Tennison,  p.  20. 
Cibber  also  says,  he  had  been  unquestionably  informed  that  our  fair 
oflFender's  repentance  appeared  in  all  the  contrite  symptoms  of  a  Chris- 
tian sincerity. — Cibber' s  Apology,  p.  451. 

*  Mrs.  Mary  Davis  was  an  actress  belonging  to  the  duke's  theatre. 
She  was,  according  to  Downes,  one  of  the  four  female  performers  who 
boarded  in  .Sir  William  Davenant's  own  house,  and  was  on  the  stage  as 
early  as  1664,  her  name  being  to  be  seen  in  The  Stepmother,  acted  in 
that  year.  She  performed  the  character  of  Celia  in  The  Rivals,  altered 
by  Davenant  from  the  Two  Noble  Kinsmen  of  Fletcher  arjd  Shake- 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT 


GRAIvrMONT. 


355 


of  singers  and  dancers  in  His  Majesty's  theatre,  were  all 
dismissed.  All  these  sacrifices  were  incfiectual :  IMiss 
Stetvart  continned  to  torment,  and  almost  to  drive  the 
king  to  distraction ;  but  His  Majesty  soon  after  found  out 
the  real  cause  of  this  coldness. 

This  discover}-  was  owing  to  the  officious  Duchess  of 
Cleveland,  who,  ever  since  her  disgrace,  had  railed  most 
bitterly  against  Miss  Stewart  as  the  cause  of  it,  and 


MISS  DAVIS. 


against  the  king's  weakness,  who,  for  an  inanimate 
idiot,  had  treated  her  with  so  much  indignity.    As  some 


speare,  in  1668 ;  and  in  singing  several  wild  and  mad  songs,  so  charmed 
His  Majesty,  that  she  was  from  that  time  received  into  his  favor,  and  had 
b}-  him  a  daughter.  Mar)-  Tudor,  born  October,  1673 ;  married  in 
August,  1687,  to  Francis  Ratcliff,  Earl  of  Derwentwater.  Burnet  says, 
Miss  Davis  did  not  keep  her  hold  on  the  king  long  ;  which  may  be 
doubted,  as  her  daughter  was  born  four  years  after  she  was  first  noticed 
by  His  Majesty. 


356  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


of  lier  grace's  creatures  were  still  in  the  king's  confidence, 
by  their  means  she  was  informed  of  the  king's  uneasi- 
ness, and  that  Miss  Stewart's  behavior  was  the  occasion 
of  it :  and  as  soon  as  she  had  found  the  opportunity  she 
had  so  long  wished  for,  she  went  directly  into  the  king's 
cabinet,  through  the  apartment  of  one  of  his  pages 
called  Chiffinch.    This  way  was  not  new  to  her. 

The  king  was  just  returned  from  visiting  Miss  Stewart 
in  a  very  ill  humor;  the  presence  of  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland  surprised  him,  and  did  not  in  the  least  dimin- 
ish it:  she,  perceiving  this,  accosted  him  in  an  ironical 
tone,  and  with  a  smile  of  indignation:  "I  hope,"  said 
she,  "  I  may  be  allowed  to  pay  you  my  homage,  although 
the  angelic  Stewart  has  forbid  you  to  see  me  at  my  own 
house.  I  will  not  make  use  of  reproaches  and  expostu- 
lations, which  would  disgrace  myself:  still  less  will  I 
endeavor  to  excuse  frailties  which  nothing  can  justify, 
since  your  constancy  for  me  deprives  me  of  all  defence, 
considering  I  am  the  only  person  you  have  honored  with 
your  tenderness,  who  has  made  herself  unworthy  of  it  by 
ill  conduct.  I  come  now,  therefore,  with  no  other  intent 
than  to  comfort  and  condole  with  you  upon  the  affliction 
and  grief  into  which  the  coldness,  or  new-fashioned 
chastity  of  the  inhuman  Stewart  have  reduced  Your 
Majesty."  These  words  were  attended  by  a  fit  of  laugh- 
ter, as  unnatural  and  strained,  as  it  was  insulting  and 
immoderate,  which  completed  the  king's  impatience  : 
he  had,  indeed,  expected  that  some  bitter  jest  would  fol- 
low this  preamble  ;  but  he  did  not  suppose  she  would 
have  given  herself  such  blustering  airs,  considering  the 
terms  they  were  then  upon;  and  as  he  was  preparing  to 
answer  her:  "Be  not  offended,"  said  she,  "that  I  take 
the  liberty  of  laughing  at  the  gross  manner  in  which  you 
are  imposed  upon:  I  cannot  bear  to  see  that  such  partic- 
ular affectation  should  make  you  the  jest  of  your  own 
court,  and  that  you  should  be  ridiculed  with  such  impu- 
nity.   I  know  that  the  affected  Stewart  has  sent  you 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


357 


away,  under  pretence  of  some  indisposition,  or  perhaps 
some  scruple  of  conscience  ;  and  I  come  to  acquaint  you 
that  the  Duke  of  Richmond  will  soon  be  with  her,  if  he 
is  not  there  already.  I  do  not  desire  you  to  believe  what 
I  say,  since  it  might  be  suggested  either  through  resent- 
ment or  envy:  only  follow  me  to  her  apartment,  either 
that,  no  longer  trusting  calumny  and  malice,  you  may 
honor  her  with  a  just  preference,  if  I  accuse  her  falsely  ; 
or,  if  my  information  be  true,  you  may  no  longer  be  the 
dupe  of  a  pretended  prude,  who  makes  }  ou  act  so  mibe- 
coming  and  ridiculous  a  part. ' ' 

As  she  ended  this  speech,  she  took  him  by  the  hand, 
while  he  was  yet  undecided,  and  i:»ulled  him  away  to- 
wards her  rival's  apartments.  Chiffinch*  being  in  her 
interest,  IMiss  Stewart  could  have  no  warning  of  the 
visit ;  and  Babiani,  who  owed  all  to  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland,  and  who  served  her  admirabh'  well  upon  this 
occasion,  came  and  told  her  that  the  Duke  of  Richmond 
had  just  gone  into  Miss  Stewart's  chamber.  It  was  in 
the  middle  of  a  little  galler}-,  which,  through  a  private 
door,  led  from  the  king's  apartments  to  those  of  his 
mistresses.    The  Duchess  of  Cleveland  wished  him  good- 


*  The  name  of  this  person  occurs  very  often  in  the  secret  history  of 
this  reif^n.  Wood,  in  enumerating  the  king's  supper  companions, 
says,  the3-  meet  "either  in  the  lodgings  of  Lodovisa,  Ducliess  of  Ports- 
mouth, or  in  those  of  — —  Cheffing  (Chiffinch),  near  the  back  stairs,  or 
in  the  apartment  of  Eleanor  Quin  (Gwyn),  or  in  that  of  Baptist  May  ; 

but  he  losing  his  credit  Cheffing  had  the  greatest  trust  among 

them."  AthcncE  Oxon.,  vol.  ii.,  1038.  So  great  was  the  confidence  re- 
posed in  him,  that  he  was  the  receiver  of  the  secret  pensions  paid  by 
the  court  of  France  to  the  King  of  England. — See  the  Duke  of  Leeds' 
Letters,  17 10,  pp.  9,  17,  33. 

Chiffinch's  more  important  duties  are  intimated  in  the  beginning  of 
a  satirical  poem  of  the  time,  entitled,  "Sir  Edmondbury  Godfrey's 
Ghost." 

It  happen'd,  in  the  twilight  of  the  day, 
As  England's  monarch  in  his  closet  lay, 
And  Chiffinch  stepp'd  to  fetch  the  female  prey, 
The  bloody  shape  of  Godfrey  did  appear,  etc. 


358  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


night,  as  he  entered  her  rival's  chamber,  and  retired,  in 
order  to  wait  the  success  of  the  adventure,  of  which 
Babiani,  who  attended  the  king,  was  charged  to  come 
and  give  her  an  account. 

It  was  near  midnight :  the  king,  in  his  way,  met  his 
mistress's  chamber-maids,  who  respectfully  opposed  his 
entrance,  and  in  a  very  low  voice  whispered  His  Majesty 
that  Miss  Stewart  had  been  very  ill  since  he  left  her  : 
but  that,  being  gone  to  bed,  she  was,  God  be  thanked, 
in  a  very  fine  sleep.  "That  I  must  see,"  said  the  king, 
pushing  her  back,  who  had  posted  herself  in  his  way. 
He  found  Miss  Stewart  in  bed,  indeed,  but  far  from 
being  asleep :  the  Duke  of  Richmond  was  seated  at  her 
pillow,  and  in  all  probability  was  less  inclined  to  sleep 
than  herself  The  perplexity  of  the  one  party,  and  the 
rage  of  the  other,  were  such  as  may  easily  be  imagined 
upon  such  a  surprise.  The  king,  who,  of  all  men,  was 
one  of  the  most  mild  and  gentle,  testified  his  resentment 
to  the  Duke  of  Richmond  in  such  terms  as  he  had  never 
before  used.  The  duke  was  speechless,  and  almost  pet- 
rified :  he  saw  his  master  and  his  king  justly  irritated. 
The  first  transports  which  rage  inspires  on  such  occasions 
are  dangerous.  Miss  Stewart's  window  was  very  con- 
venient for  a  sudden  revenge,  the  Thames  flowing  close 
beneath  it :  he  cast  his  eyes  upon  it :  and,  seeing  those 
of  the  king  more  incensed  and  fired  with  indignation 
than  he  thought  his  nature  capable  of,  he  made  a  pro- 
found bow,  and  retired,  without  replying  a  single  word 
to  the  vast  torrent  of  threats  and  menaces  that  were 
poured  upon  him. 

Miss  Stewart,  having  a  little  recovered  from  her  first 
surprise,*  instead  of  justifying  herself,  began  to  talk  in 
the  most  extravagant  manner,  and  said  everything  that 
was  most  capable  to  inflame  the  king's  passion  and  re- 


*  See  Bishop  Burnet's  account  of  Miss  Stewart's  marriage  in  his  His- 
tory  of  his  Own  Times,  vol.  i.,  p.  353. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT, 


359 


sentinent  ;  that,  if  she  were  not  allowed  to  receive  visits 
from  a  man  of  the  Dnke  of  Richmond's  rank,  who  came 
with  honorable  intentions,  she  was  a  slave  in  a  free 
country  ;  that  she  knew  of  no  engagement  that  could 
prevent  her  from  disposing  of  her  hand  as  she  thought 
proper  ;  but,  however,  if  this  was  not  permitted  her  in 
his  dominions,  she  did  not  believe  that  there  was  any 
power  on  earth  that  could  hinder  her  from  going  over  to 
France  and  throwing  herself  into  a  convent,  to  enjoy 
there  that  tranquillity  which  was  denied  her  in  his  court. 
The  king,  sometimes  furious  with  anger,  sometimes  re- 
lenting at  her  tears,  and  sometimes  terrified  at  her  men- 
aces, was  so  greatly  agitated  that  he  knew  not  how  to 
answer,  either  the  nicety  of  a  creatiire  who  wanted  to 
act  the  part  of  Lucretia  under  his  own  eye,  or  the  assur- 
ance with  which  she  had  the  effrontery  to  reproach  him. 
In  this  suspense,  love  had  almost  entirely  vanquished  all 
his  resentments,  and  had  nearly  induced  him  to  throw 
himself  upon  his  knees  and  entreat  pardon  for  the  injury 
he  had  done  her,  when  she  desired  him  to  retire,  and 
leave  her  in  repose  at  least  for  the  remainder  of  that 
night,  withoiit  offending  those  who  had  either  accom- 
panied him,  or  conducted  him  to  her  apartments,  by  a 
longer  visit.  This  impertinent  request  provoked  and 
irritated  him  to  the  highest  degree:  he  went  out  abruptly, 
vowing  never  to  see  her  more,  and  passed  the  most  rest- 
less and  uneasy  night  he  had  ever  experienced  since  his 
restoration. 

The  next  day  the  Duke  of  Richmond  received  orders 
to  quit  the  court,  and  never  more  to  appear  before 
the  king  ;  but  it  seems  he  had  not  waited  for  those 
orders,  having  set  out  early  that  morning  for  his  coun- 
try seat. 

Miss  Stewart,  in  order  to  obviate  all  injurious  con- 
structions that  might  be  put  upon  the  adventure  of  the 
preceding  night,  went  and  threw  herself  at  the  queen's 


360  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


feet  ;  where,  acting  the  new  part  of  an  innocent  Magda- 
len, she  entreated  Her  Majesty's  forgiveness  for  all  the 
sorrow  and  uneasiness  she  might  have  already  occasioned 
her.  She  told  Her  Majesty  that  a  constant  and  sincere 
repentance  had  indnced  her  to  contrive  all  possible 
means  for  retiring  from  court :  that  this  reason  had  in- 
clined her  to  receive  the  Duke  of  Richmond's  addresses, 
who  had  courted  her  a  long  time  ;  but  since  this  court- 
ship had  caused  his  disgrace,  and  had  likewise  raised  a 
vast  noise  and  disturbance,  which  perhaps  might  be 
turned  to  the  prejudice  of  her  reputation,  she  conjured 
Her  Majesty  to  take  her  under  her  protection,  and  en- 
deavor to  obtain  the  king's  permission  for  her  to  retire 
into  a  convent,  to  remove  at  once  all  those  vexations 
and  troubles  her  presence  had  innocently  occasioned  at 
court.  All  this  was  accompanied  with  a  proper  deluge 
of  tears. 

It  is  a  very  agreeable  spectacle  to  see  a  rival  prostrate 
at  our  feet,  entreating  pardon,  and  at  the  same  time 
justifying  her  conduct.  The  qiieen's  heart  not  only  re- 
lented, but  she  mingled  her  own  tears  with  those  of  Miss 
Stewart.  After  having  raised  her  tip,  and  most  tenderly 
embraced  her,  she  promised  her  all  manner  of  favor  and 
protection,  either  in  her  marriage  or  in  any  other  course 
she  thought  fit  to  pursue,  and  parted  from  her  with  the 
firm  resolution  to  exert  all  her  interest  in  her  siipport : 
but,  being  a  person  of  great  judgment,  the  reflections 
which  she  afterwards  made  induced  her  to  change  her 
opinion. 

She  knew  that  the  king's  disposition  was  not  capable 
of  an  obstinate  constancy.  She  therefore  judged  that 
absence  would  cure  him,  or  that  a  new  engagement 
would  by  degrees  entirely  efface  the  remembrance  of 
Miss  Stewart;  and  that,  since  she  could  not  avoid  having 
a  rival,  it  was  more  desirable  she  should  be  one  who  had 
given  such  eminent  proofs  of  her  prudence  and  virtiie. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


3G1 


Besides,  she  flattered  herself  that  the  king  would  ever 
think  himself  eternally  obliged  to  her,  for  having  op- 
posed the  retreat  and  marriage  of  a  girl  whom  at  that 
time  he  loved  to  distraction.  This  fine  reasoning  deter- 
mined her  conduct.  All  her  industry  was  employed  in 
persuading  Miss  Stewart  to  abandon  her  schemes  ;  and 
what  is  most  extraordinary  in  this  adventure,  is,  that, 
after  having  prevailed  upon  her  to  think  no  more 
either  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  or  of  a  nunnery,  she 
charged  herself  with  the  office  of  reconciling  these  two 
lovers. 

Indeed  it  would  have  been  a  thousand  pities  if  her 
negotiation  had  miscarried  ;  but  she  did  not  suffer  this 
misfortune  ;  for  never  were  the  king's  addresses  so  eager 
and  passionate  as  after  this  peace,  nor  ever  better  received 
by  the  fair  Stewart. 

His  Majesty  did  not  long  enjoy  the  sweets  of  a  recon- 
ciliation, which  brought  him  into  the  best  good  humor 
possible,  as  we  shall  see.  All  Europe  was  in  a  pro- 
found peace  since  the  treaty  of  the  Pyrenees  :  Spain 
flattered  herself  she  should  be  able  to  recruit,  by  means 
of  the  new  alliance  she  had  contracted  with  the  most 
formidable  of  her  neighbors  ;  but  despaired  of  being 
able  to  support  the  shattered  remains  of  a  declining 
monarchy,  when  she  considered  the  age  and  infirmi- 
ties of  her  prince,  or  the  weakness  of  his  successor  : 
France,  on  the  contrary,  governed  by  a  king  inde- 
fatigable in  business,  young,  vigilant,  and  ambitious 
of  glory,  wanted  nothing  but  inclination  to  aggrandize 
herself 

It  was  about  this  time  that  the  king  of  France,  not 
willing  to  disturb  the  tranquillity  of  Europe,  was  per- 
suaded to  alarm  the  coasts  of  Africa  by  an  attempt, 
which,  if  it  had  even  been  crowned  with  success,  would 
have  produced  little  good  ;  but  the  king's  fortune,  ever 
faithful  to  his  glory,  has  since  made  it  appear,  by  the 


362 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


miscarriage  of  the  expedition  of  Gigeri,  *  that  such  pro- 
jects only  as  were  planned  by  himself  were  worthy  of 
his  attention. 

A  short  time  after,  the  king  of  England,  having  re- 
solved also  to  explore  the  African  coasts,  fitted  out  a 
squadron  for  an  expedition  to  Guinea,  which  was  to  be 
commanded  by  Prince  Rupert.  Those  who,  from  their 
own  experience,  had  some  knowledge  of  the  country, 
related  strange  and  wonderful  stories  of  the  dangers 
attendant  upon  this  expedition :  that  they  would 
have  to  fight  not  only  the  inhabitants  of  Guinea,  a 
hellish  people,  whose  arrows  were  poisoned,  and  who 
never  gave  their  prisoners  better  quarter  than  to  de- 
vour them,  but  that  they  must  likewise  endure  heats 
that  were  insupportable,  and  rains  that  were  intolera- 
ble, every  drop  of  which  was  changed  into  a  serpent : 
that,  if  they  penetrated  farther  into  the  country,  they 
would  be  assaulted  by  monsters  a  thousand  times  more 
hideous  and  destructive  than  all  the  beasts  mentioned 
in  the  Revelations. 

But  all  these  reports  were  vain  and  ineifectual :  for  so 
far  from  striking  terror  into  those  who  were  appointed 
to  go  upon  this  expedition,  it  rather  acted  as  an  incentive 
to  glory,  tipon  those  who  had  no  manner  of  business  in 
it.  Jermyn  appeared  among  the  foremost  of  these  ;  and, 
without  reflecting  that  the  pretence  of  his  indisposition 
had  delayed  the  conclusion  of  his  marriage  with  Miss 


*  Gigeri  is  about  fort}'  leagues  from  Algiers.  Till  the  year  1664  the 
French  had  a  factory  there  ;  but  then  attempting  to  build  a  fort  on  the 
sea-coast,  to  be  a  check  upon  the  Arabs,  they  came  down  from  the 
mountains,  beat  the  French  out  of  Gigeri,  and  demolished  their  fort. 
Sir  Richard  Fanshaw,  in  a  letter  to  the  deputy  governor  of  Tangier, 
dated  2d  December,  1664,  N.S.,  says:  "We  have  certain  intelligence 
that  the  French  have  lost  Gigheria,  with  all  they  had  there,  and  their 
fleet  come  back,  with  the  loss  of  one  considerable  ship  upon  the  rocks 
near  Marseilles." — Fanshauf's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p.  347. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


363 


Jennings,  he  asked  the  duke's  permission,  and  the  king's 
consent  to  serve  in  it  as  a  vohmteer. 

Some  time  before  this,  the  infatuation  which  had  im- 
posed upon  the  fair  Jennings  in  his  favor  had  begun  to 
subside.  All  that  now  inclined  her  to  this  match  were 
the  advantages  of  a  settlement.  The  careless  indolence 
of  a  lover,  who  faintly  paid  his  addresses  to  her,  as  it  were 
from  custom  or  habit,  disgusted  her  ;  and  the  resolution 
he  had  taken,  without  consulting  her,  appeared  so  ridicu- 
lous in  him,  and  so  injurious  to  herself,  that,  from  that 
moment,  she  resolved  to  think  no  more  of  him.  Her 
eyes  being  opened  by  degrees,  she  saw  the  fallacy  of  the 
splendor,  which  had  at  first  deceived  her  ;  and  the  re- 
nowned Jermyn  was  received  according  to  his  real  merit 
when  he  came  to  acquaint  her  with  his  heroical  project. 
There  appeared  so  much  indifference  and  ease  in  the 
raillery  with  which  she  complimented  him  upon  his 
voyage,  that  he  was  entirely  disconcerted,  and  so  much 
the  more  so,  as  he  had  prepared  all  the  arguments  he 
thought  capable  of  consoling  her,  upon  announcing  to 
her  the  fatal  news  of  his  departure.  She  told  him, 
"  that  nothing  could  be  more  glorious  for  him,  who  had 
triumphed  over  the  liberty  of  so  many  persons  in  Europe, 
than  to  go  and  extend  his  conquests  in  other  parts  of  the 
world ;  and  that  she  advised  him  to  bring  home  with 
him  all  the  female  captives  he  might  make  in  Africa,  in 
order  to  replace  those  beauties  whom  his  absence  would 
bring  to  the  grave." 

Jermyn  was  highly  displeased  that  she  should  be 
capable  of  raillery  in  the  condition  he  supposed  her  re- 
duced to  ;  but  he  soon  perceived  she  was  in  earnest :  she 
told  him,  that  she  considered  this  farewell  visit  as  his 
last,  and  desired  him  not  to  think  of  making  her  any 
more  before  his  departure. 

Thus  far  everything  went  well  on  her  side :  Jermyn 
was  not  only  confounded  at  having  received  his  discharge 


364  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


in  so  cavalier  a  manner  ;  bnt  this  very  demonstration  of 
her  indifiference  had  revived,  and  even  redonbled,  all  the 
love  and  affection  he  had  formerly  felt  for  her.  Thns 
she  had  both  the  pleasure  of  despising  him,  and  of  see- 
ing him  more  entangled  in  the  chains  of  love  than  he 
had  ever  been  before.  This  was  not  sufficient  :  she 
wished  still  farther,  and  very  unadvisedly,  to  strain  her 
resentment. 

Ovid's  Epistles,*  translated  into  English  verse  by  the 
greatest  wits  at  court,  having  lately  been  published,  she 
wrote  a  letter  from  a  shepherdess  in  despair,  addressed  to 
the  perfidious  Jermyn.  She  took  the  epistle  of  Ariadne 
to  Theseus  for  her  model.  The  beginning:  of  this  letter 
contained,  word  for  word,  the  complaints  and  reproaches 
of  that  injured  fair  to  the  cruel  man  by  whom  she  had 
been  abandoned.  All  this  was  properly  adapted  to  the 
present  times  and  circumstances.  It  was  her  design  to 
have  closed  this  piece  with  a  description  of  the  toils, 
perils,  and  monsters,  that  awaited  him  in  Guinea,  for 
which  he  quitted  a  tender  mistress,  who  was  plunged 
into  the  abyss  of  misery,  and  was  overwhelmed  with 
grief  and  despair  ;  but  not  having  had  time  to  finish  it, 
nor  to  get  that  which  she  had  written  transcribed,  in 
order  to  send  it  to  him  under  a  feigned  name,  she  in- 
considerately put  this  fragment,  written  in  her  own 
hand,  into  her  pocket,  and,  still  more  giddily,  dropped 
it  in  the  middle  of  the  court.  Those  who  took  it  up, 
knowing  her  writing,  made  several  copies  of  it,  which 
were  circulated  all  over  the  town  ;  but  her  former  con- 
duct had  so  well  established  the  reputation  of  her  virtue, 
that  no  person  entertained  the  smallest  doubt  but  the 
circumstances  were  exactly  as  we  have  related  them. 
Some  time  after,  the  Guinea  expedition  was  laid  aside 


*This  is  the  translation  of  Ovid's  Epistles  published  by  Mr.  Dryden. 
The  second  edition  of  it  was  printed  in  1681. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


365 


for  reasons  that  are  universally  known,  and  INIiss  Jen- 
nings' subsequent  proceedings  fully  justified  her  letter  ; 
for,  notwithstanding  all  the  efforts  and  attentions  Jerniyn 
practised  to  regain  her  affections,  she  would  never  more 
hear  of  hini. 

But  he  was  not  the  only  man  who  experienced  the 
whimsical  fatality,  that  seemed  to  delight  in  disuniting 
hearts,  in  order  to  engage  them  soon  after  to  different 
objects.  One  would  have  imagined  that  the  God  of 
Love,  actuated  by  some  new  caprice,  had  placed  his 
empire  luider  the  dominion  of  Hymen,  and  had,  at  the 
same  time,  blind-folded  that  god,  in  order  to  cross- 
match most  of  the  lovers  whom  we  have  been  speak- 
ing of. 

The  fair  Stewart  married  the  Duke  of  Richmond  ;  the 
invincible  Jermyn,  a  silly  country  girl  ;*  Lord  Roches- 
ter, a  melancholy  heiress  ;t  the  sprightly  Temple,  the 
serious  Lyttleton  ;  Talbot,  without  knowing  why  or 
wherefore,  took  to  wife  the  languishing  Boynton  ;J 
George  Hamilton,  under  more  favorable  auspices,  mar- 
ried the  lovely  Jennings  ;  and  the  Chevalier  de  Grani- 
mont,  as  the  reward  of  a  constancy  he  had  never  before 
known,  and  which  he  never  afterwards  practised,  found 
Hymen  and  Love  united  in  his  favor,  and  was  at  last 
blessed  with  the  possession  of  Miss  Hamilton.  § 


*  Miss  Gibbs,  daughter  of  a  gentleman  in  the  county  of  Cambridge, 
t  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  John  INIallet,  of  Enmere,  iu  the  county  of 
Somerset. 

t  After  the  deaths  of  Miss  Boynton  and  of  George  Hamilton,  Talbot 
married  Miss  Jennings,  and  became  afterwards  Duke  of  Tj-rconnel. 

^  "The  famous  Count  (iramniont  was  thought  to  be  the  original  of 
The  Forced  Marriage.  This  nobleman,  during  his  stay  at  the  court  of 
England,  had  made  love  to  Miss  Hamilton,  but  was  coming  away  for 
France  without  bringing  matters  to  a  proper  conclusion.  The  young 
lady's  brothers  pursued  him,  and  came  up  with  him  near  Dover,  in  order 
to  exchange  some  pistol-shot  with  him  :  They  called  out,  '  Count  Grani- 
mont,  have  you  forgot  nothing  at  London  ?  '  '  Excuse  me, '  answered  the 


366  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Count,  guessing  their  errand,  '  I  forgot  to  marrj'  your  sister ;  so  lead 
on,  and  let  us  finish  that  affair.'  By  the  pleasantry  of  the  answer,  this 
was  the  same  Grammont  who  commanded  at  the  siege  of  a  place,  the 
governor  of  which  capitulated  after  a  short  defence,  and  obtained  an 
easy  capitulation.  The  governor  then  said  to  Monsieur  Grammont 
'  I'll  tell  you  a  secret — that  the  reason  of  ray  capitulation  was,  because 
I  was  in  want  of  powder.'  Monsieur  replied,  'And  secret  for  secret — 
the  reason  of  my  granting  you  such  an  easy  capitulation  was,  because  I 
was  in  want  of  ball.'  " — Biog.  Gallica,  vol.  i.,  p.  202. 

Count  Grammont  and  his  lady  left  England  in  1669.  King  Charles 
in  a  letter  to  his  sister,  the  Duchess  of  Orleans,  dated  24th  October,  in 
that  year,  says,  "I  writt  to  you  yesterday,  b}'  the  Conipte  de  Gram- 
mont, but  I  believe  this  letter  will  come  sooner  to  your  handes  ;  for  he 
goes  by  the  way  of  Diep,  with  his  wife  and  family :  and  now  that  I 
have  named  her,  I  cannot  chuse  but  againe  desire  you  to  be  kiude  to 
her ;  for,  besides  the  merrit  her  family  has  on  both  sides,  she  is  as 
good  a  creature  as  ever  lived.  I  beleeve  she  will  pass  for  a  handsome 
woman  in  France,  though  she  has  not  yett,  since  her  lying-inn,  re- 
covered that  good  shape  she  had  before,  and  I  am  afiraide  never  will." 
— Dalrymple' s  Memoirs,  vol.  ii.,  p.  26. 

"The  Count  de  Grammont  fell  dangerously  ill  in  the  year  1696  ;  of 
which  the  king  (L,oiiis  XIV.)  being  informed,  and  knowing,  besides, 
that  he  was  inclined  to  libertinism,  he  was  pleased  to  send  the  Marquis 
of  Daugeau  to  see  how  he  did,  and  to  advise  him  to  think  of  God. 
Hereupon  Count  de  Grammont,  turning  towards  his  wife,  who  had  ever 
been  a  very  devout  lady,  told  her.  Countess,  if  you  don't  look  to  it,  Dan- 
geau  will  juggle  you  out  of  my  conversion.  Madame  de  I'Euclos  having 
afterwards  written  to  M.  de  St.  Evremond  that  Count  de  Grammont  was 
recovered,  and  turned  devout,- — I  have  learned,  answered  he  to  her,  with 
a  great  deal  of  pleasure,  that  Count  de  Grammont  has  recovered  his 
former  health,  and  acquired  a  new  devotion.  Hitherto  I  have  been  con- 
tented with  being  a  plain  honest  man ;  but  I  must  do  something  more  ; 
and  I  only  wait  for  your  example  to  become  a  devotee.  You  live  in  a 
country  where  people  have  wonderful  advantages  of  saving  their  souls  : 
there  vice  is  almost  as  opposite  to  the  mode  as  to  virtue  ;  sinning  passes 
for  ill-breeding,  and  shocks  decency  and  good  manners,  as  much  as  re- 
ligion. Formerly  it  was  enough  to  be  wicked  ;  now  one  must  be  a  scoun- 
drel withal,  to  be  danu:ed  in  France.  They  who  have  not  regard  enough 
for  another  life,  are  led  to  salvation  by  the  consideration  and  duties  of 
this." — "  But  there  is  enough  upon  a  .subject  in  which  the  conversion  of 
the  Count  de  Grammont  has  engaged  me  :  I  believe  it  to  be  sincere  and 
honest.  It  well  becomes  a  man  who  is  not  young,  to  forget  he  has  been 
so." — Life  of  St.  Evremond,  by  Des  Rfarzeaiix,  p.  136  ;  and  .S7.  Evre- 
moiid's  Works,  vol.  ii.,  431. 

It  appears  that  a  report  had  been  .spread  that  our  hero  was  dead. 


MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


367 


St.  Evreiiiond,  iu  a  letter  to  De  I'Enclos,  says,  "they  talk  here  as  if  the 
Count  de  Graniiiiont  was  dead,  which  touches  me  with  a  very  sensible 
grief." — SI.  Evreinonits  Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  39.  And  the  same  lady,  in 
her  answer,  says,  ' '  Madame  de  Coulauges  has  undertaken  to  make  your 
compliments  to  the  Count  de  Granimont,  by  the  Countess  de  Gram- 
mont.  He  is  so  young,  that  I  think  him  as  light  as  when  he  hated  sick 
people,  and  loved  them  after  they  had  recovered  their  health." — Ibid., 
P-  59- 

At  length  Count  de  Grammout,  after  a  long  life,  died,  the  loth 
January,  1707,  at  the  age  of  86  3-ears. 

See  a  letter  from  St.  Evreniond  to  Count  de  Granimont  on  the  death 
of  his  brother.  Count  de  Toulongeon. — St.  Evrctnoiid's  Works,  vol.  ii., 
P-  327- 


LLCV  B.-VRLOW  (\vat];k.s 


APPENDIX 


TO  THE  MEMOIRS  OF  COUNT  GRAMMONT. 


Any  reader  who  has  for  the  first  time  pursued  these 
Memoirs  to  the  end  will  be  disappointed  at  their  abrupt 
conclusion. 

This  defect  we  have  sought  to  remedy  by  adding  three 
portraits  and  their  biographies  from  Mrs.  Jameson's 
Beauties  of  the  Court  of  Charles  II.  :  Mrs.  LawsON, 
one  of  the  mistresses  of  Charles  II.  ;  IvADY  Bellasys, 
one  of  the  mistresses  of  the  Duke  of  York,  and  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  the  last  mistress  of 
Charles.  The  biography  of  this  last  beauty  brings 
the  life  of  Charles  to  a  close  and  graphically  de- 
scribes the  disgraceful  condition  into  which  he  had 
betrayed  England  into  dependence  on  France,  so  that 
he  might  obtain  money  to  squander  in  extravagance, 
and  maintain  his  extensive  harem  and  "interminable 
brood"  of  royal  bastards. 

(368) 


MRS.  LAWSON. 

"  Condamn^e  a  la  celebrite  saiis  pouvoir  etre  connue." 

-De  Stael. 

By  this  title  the  portrait  in  the  Beatity-room  at  Wind- 
sor has  always  been  traditionally  known  ;  but,  according 
to  the  present  style,  Mrs.  Lawson  should  properly  be 
Miss  Lawson,  as  the  ladj-  here  represented  was  certainly 
unmarried.  * 

The  Mrs.  Lawson  of  the  Windsor  Galler)'  must  have 
been  one  of  the  five  daughters  of  Sir  John  Lawson,  a 
Roman  Catholic  Baronet,  of  Brough,  in  Yorkshire.  He 
married  Catherine  Howard,  a  daughter  of  the  Earl  of 
Carlisle,  whose  younger  brother,  Thomas  Howard,  be- 
came the  second  husband  of  Mary  Villiers,  Duchess  of 
Richmond,  and  sister  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham. 
Thus,  a  woman  of  high  rank  and  intriguing  spirit,  con- 
nected, by  her  first  marriage,  with  the  blood  royal,  and 


*  In  the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  and  long  afterwards,  Mrs.  or  Mistress 
was  the  usual  appellation  of  a  young  unmarried  woman.  Married 
women  were  entitled  Madam.  The  word  Miss  was  seldom  used  but  in 
a  very  disreputable  sense. 

24  (369) 


370 


APPENDIX. 


the  sister  of  the  reigning  favorite,  became  the  annt  of 
the  five  Miss  Lawsons. 

There  is  reason  to  believe,  from  varions  scattered 
notices,  that  this  Duchess  of  Richmond  introduced  one 
of  her  nieces  at  court,  with  a  view  of  captivating  the 
easy  affections  of  Charles,  and  counteracting,  through 
her  influence,  the  ascendancy  of  the  Duchess  of  Ports- 
mouth. One  part  of  this  plan  appears  to  have  succeeded, 
for  Miss  Lawson  became  the  object  of  the  king's  admira- 
tion, whose  attentions  to  her  were  so  public  that  they 
are  freqitently  alluded  to,  and  the  Portsmouth  faction 
was  thrown  into  some  consternation. 

But  it  also  appears  that  on  this  occasion  Charles  met 
with  very  unusual  resistance,  and  that  Miss  Lawson  was 
not  easily  won — if,  indeed,  she  was  won  at  all,  of  which 
there  is  no  existing  proof  There  is  a  coarse  political 
satire  of  that  time  (about  1674)  quoted  by  Sir  William 
Mixsgrave,  in  which  all  the  celebrated  beauties  of  the 
court  are  represented  as  contending  for  the  post  of 
'''' Mattresse  en  litre.''''  Miss  Lawson  is  mentioned  among 
the  rest,  but  she  is  rejected,  by  reason  of  her  "too  great 
modesty."  There  are  other  contemporary  songs,  epi- 
grams, satires,  worthless  in  themselves,  where  Miss 
Lawson's  name  occurs.  She  is  never  alluded  to  but  as 
one  hitherto  innocent,  and  exposed  to  danger  from  the 
intrigues  of  her  aunt,  and  the  profligate  pursuit  of  the 
king.    The  following  passage  will  serve  as  a  specimen  : 

"  Yet  Lawson,  thou  whose  arbitrar  y  sway, 
Our  King  must,  more  than  we  do  him,  obey, 
Who  shortly  shall  of  easy  Charles's  breast 
And  of  his  empire  be  at  once  possest ; 
Though  it  indeed  appear  a  glorious  thing 
To  connnand  power  and  to  enslave  a  King, 
Yet  ere  the  false  appearance  has  betray'd 
A  soft,  believing,  iniexperienced  maid, 
Ah  !  yet  consider  ere  it  be  too  late, 
How  near  you  stand  upon  the  brink  of  fate."  * 


*  Mtisgrave^s  Biographical  Adversaria,  M.S.  No.  5723,  British  Mu- 
seum. 


APPENDIX. 


371 


Sir  William  Musgrave  adds,  "  that  the  five  sisters  be- 
came nuns  at  York,"  and  this  is  all  that  can  be  dis- 
covered concerning  the  original  of  this  portrait.  If  we 
may  believe  in  the  existence  of  innocence,  which  even 
slander  appears  to  have  respected,  and  satire  itself  to 
have  compassionated  ;  and  if  we  can  suppose  it  possible 
that  such  innocence  could  be  maintained  in  a  corrupt 
court,  surrounded  not  only  by  temptations,  but  by  the 
most  villainous  snares,  we  ought  to  deem  Miss  Lawson 
acquitted,  notwithstanding  the  evil  society  in  which  she 
appears. 


EARL  OF  CHKSTEKFIKI.n. 


SUSAN  ARMINE; 


LADY  BELLASYS. 

"Bonne  et  Belle  assez." 

Motto  of  the  Belasyse  family. 

This  picture,  which  is  the  most  striking  and  splendid 
of  the  whole  series  known  as  the  Windsor  Beatities,  is, 
unhappily,  one  of  the  disputed  portraits.  At  Windsor  it 
is  traditionally  known  as  Elinor  Lady  Byron  ;*  but,  on 
the  authority  of  Horace  Walpole,  Granger,  and  Sir 


*  Elinor  Needham,  daughter  of  Lord  Kilmurrey,  married  at  eleven 
years  old  to  Peter  Warbiirton,  Esq.,  who  died  before  she  was  fifteen, 
and  after  bis  death  the  wife  of  the  first  Lord  Byron,  is  described  in  Sir 
Peter  Leycester's  Antiquities  of  Chester,  as  "a  person  of  such  comely 
carriage  and  presence,  handsomeness,  sweet  disposition,  honor,  and 
general  respect  in  the  world,  that  she  hath  scarce  left  her  equal  be- 
hind." But  Sir  Peter  was  personally  the  friend  of  the  lady,  and  con- 
nected with  her  family,  and  his  testimony  is  rather  incorrect  and  par- 
tial. The  fact  is,  that  this  Lady  Byron  became,  after  the  death  of  her 
husband,  the  mistress  of  Charles  IL  during  his  exile ;  and,  avarice 
being  her  ruling  passion,  she  contrived  to  extort  from  him,  even  in 
the  midst  of  his  distresses,  upwards  of  15,000/.  in  money  and  jewels, 
etc.  She  was  dismissed  for  the  sake  of  Lady  Castlemaine,  before  the 
king's  return,  and  died  at  Chester,  witliin  two  years  after  the  Restora- 
tion. It  is  not  very  probable  that  the  portrait  of  this  lady  should  find 
its  way  into  the  gallery  of  Court  Beauties  of  the  time  of  Charles  II.  It 
(372) 


APPENDIX. 


373 


William  Miisgrave,  all  three  well  versed  in  the  biog- 
raphy of  our  peerage,  as  well  as  in  2:)ictorial  and  domestic 
antiquities,  it  is  generally  supposed  to  represent  Susan 
Arminc,  "the  widow  of  Sir  Henry  Bcllasys,  and  mis- 
tress of  the  Duke  of  York."  * 

Methinks  if  this  magnificent-looking  creatiire  could 
speak,  she  would  certainly  exclaim  against  this  last  dis- 
reputable and  unmerited  title,  or  insist  that  it  should  be 
understood  with  a  reservation  in  her  favor  : — but  since 
those  lips,  though  stained  with  no  "  Stygian  hue,"  are 
silenced  by  death,  and  can  only  /oo/e  their  scorn,  we  must 
plead,  in  defence  of  Lad)-  Bellasys,  that  if  the  circum- 
stances of  her  life  gave  some  color  to  the  slander  which 
has  been  unadvisedly  stamped  on  her  fair,  open  brow, 
she  estimated,  as  a  woman  ought  to  estimate,  her  own 
and  her  sex's  honor. 

Susan  Armine  was  the  daughter  of  Sir  William 
Armine,  of  Osgodby,  in  Lincolnshire.  Her  mother, 
Mary  Talbot,  was  a  niece  of  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury, 
and  a  lady  distinguished  in  her  time  for  her  various 
learning,  as  well  as  for  her  gentle  and  feminine  virtues 
and  extensive  charities,  f    It  appears  that  vSusan  Armine 


may  be  added,  that  the  picture  has  been  attributed  by  some  to  Vandyke, 
by  others  to  Lely,  by  others  to  Huysinau.  If  Lady  Byron  sat  to  Van- 
dyke, it  must  have  been  in  her  childhood  :  if  to  Lely  or  to  Huysman, 
it  must  have  been  abroad,  or  after  the  Restoration,  both  circumstances 
equally  improbable.  Among  the  family  pictures  at  Tabley  (the  seat 
of  the  Leycesters)  there  is  a  very  fine  full-lensa^th  portrait,  nearly  re- 
sembling this  at  Windsor  :  it  is  there  entitled  Lady  Byron,  and  attrib- 
uted to  Lely.  On  the  whole  it  is  quite  impossible  to  reconcile  the 
very  contradictory  evidence  relative  to  the  person  and  the  picture,  but 
by  attributing  the  portrait  at  once  to  Lady  Bellasys,  on  the  most  prob- 
able grounds  and  the  most  credible  testimony. 

*  Horace  Walpole  ;  Anecdotes  of  Painting,  Granger's  Biographical 
History  of  England,  and  Musgrave's  MS.  notes  "to  Granger,  British 
Museum. 

tLady  Armine  died  in  1674.  It  is  said  that  she  founded  three  hos- 
pitals for  the  sick  and  the  poor,  one  of  which  (at  Burton  Grange,  in 
Yorkshirej  still  exists. 


374 


APPENDIX. 


was  their  only  child  and  heiress,  and  that  she  was  mar- 
ried very  young,  according  to  the  fashion  of  those  times, 
to  Henry  Bellasys,  the  son  and  heir  of  Lord  Bellas}  s, 
and  nephew  of  Lord  Fanconberg.  *  Lord  Bellasys,  who 
had  greatly  signalized  himself  in  the  royal  canse,  be- 
came, after  the  Restoration,  the  friend  and  favorite  of 
the  Duke  of  York  ;  and  his  son  Henry  was  created  a 
knight  of  the  Bath,  in  recompense  for  his  own  gallantry 
and  his  father's  loyalty. 

From  the  few  particulars  which  have  been  preserved 
relating  to  Sir  Henry  Bellasys,  we  may  pronounce  him 
to  have  been  eminently  brave  and  generous,  but  of  a 
rash  and  fiery  disposition.  His  headlong  impetuosity 
first  involved  him  in  a  luckless  mistake,  which  led  to 
the  murder  of  an  innocent  man,t  and  afterwards  occa- 
sioned his  own  death,  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  within  a 
few  years  after  his  marriage.  The  circumstances,  which 
form,  perhaps,  the  severest  satire  against  duelling  that 
ever  was  penned,  and  might  well  excite  a  smile  but  for 
the  tragical  result,  are  thus  related. — Sir  Henry,  after  a 
late  revel,  was  conversing  apart  with  his  dear  and  sworn 
friend  Tom  Porter,  then  Groom  of  the  Chamber  to  the 
king.  As  they  spoke  with  animation,  and  rather  loud, 
some  one  standing  by  asked  if  they  were  quarrelling? 
"Quarrelling!"  exclaimed  Sir  Henry,  turning  round, 
"  No  ! — I  would  have  you  to  know  that  I  never  quarrel 
but  I  strike  !  "  "  How  !  "  said  Porter,  "strike  !  I  would 
I  could  see  the  man  that  dare  give  me  a  blow  !"  Sir 
Henry,  flushed  with  recent  intemperance,  and  only  sen- 
sible to  the  defiance  implied  in  these  words,  instantly 
struck  him.  They  drew,  of  course,  but  were  immedi- 
ately separated  by  their  friends.  Porter  left  the  house, 
and,  meeting  Dryden,  told  him,  in  a  wild  manner,  what 

*  In  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  the  name  was  spelt  indifferently  Bel- 
lasses  and  Bellasys,  but  more  recently  Belas3-se.  The  title  of  Fancon- 
berg became  extinct  within  the  last  few  years. 

fSee  Pepys,  vol.  i.,  p.  133. 


APPENDIX. 


375 


had  just  passed,  and  that  he  must  fight  Sir  Henry  Bel- 
lasys  presently,  for,  if  he  waited  till  the  morrow,  he 
"  knew  they  would  be  friends  again,  and  the  disgrace  of 
the  blow  would  rest  upon  him."  He  borrowed  Dryden's 
servant,  whom  he  ordered  to  watch  for  Sir  Henry,  and 
give  him  notice  which  way  he  went.  He  then  followed 
his  carriage,  stopped  it  in  Covent  Garden,  and  called  on 
his  friend  to  alight.  They  drew  their  swords,  and 
fought  on  the  spot,  some  of  their  acquaintance  and 
others  looking  on,  till  Sir  Henry  Bellasys,  finding  him- 
self severely  wounded,  staggered,  and  had  nearly  fallen, 
but,  sustaining  himself  by  an  effort,  he  called  to  Tom 
Porter,  and  desired  him  to  fly.  "Tom,"  said  he  affec- 
tionately, "  thou  hast  hurt  me  ;  but  I  will  make  a  shift 
to  stand  on  my  legs  till  thou  mayst  withdraw,  for  I 
would  not  have  thee  troubled  for  what  thou  hast  done !" 
He  then  kissed  and  embraced  him :  but  Porter,  unable 
to  speak,  could  only  show  him  that  he  too  was  wounded 
and  bleeding.  In  this  state  they  were  carried  home. 
Sir  Henry  Bellas^-s  died  of  his  wounds  within  four  days 
after  the  encounter  ;  and  thus,  in  consequence  of  a  foolish 
and  drunken  outrage,  perished  a  young  man  of  high 
hopes,  noble  birth,  generous  feeling,  and  approved  gal- 
lantry, by  the  hand  of  the  man  he  most  loved,  and  for 
whom  he  would  willingly  have  shed  his  blood.  This 
extraordinary  duel,  which  even  then  excited  more  ridi- 
cule than  sympathy,*  occurred  in  1667. 

Of  Lady  Bellasys,  married  so  young,  and  so  early  left 
a  widow,  we  do  not  hear  at  this  time.  She  was  the 
mother  of  one  son,  an  infant ;  and  it  appears  that  she 
lived  in  retirement  for  some  years  after  the  death  of  her 
husband.  It  was  about  the  year  1670  that  she  was  first 
distinguished  at  court,  not  so  much  for  her  beauty,  as 
for  her  wit,  her  vivacity,  her  high  spirit  and  uncommon 


*  "  It  is  pretty  to  hear  how  all  the  world  doth  talk  of  them,  and  call 
them  a  couple  of  fools,  who  killed  each  other  for  pure  love." — Pepys. 


376 


APPENDIX. 


powers  of  mind.  These  qualities  fascinated  the  Duke 
of  York.  It  was  said  of  him,  that  he  was  as  indifferent 
to  beauty  as  Charles  was  to  virtue  and  intellect  in 
women.  Some  of  the  ladies  whom  the  duke  most 
admired  were  so  homely,  that  the  king  used  to  aver, 
that  the  priests  had  inflicted  his  brother's  mistresses  on 
him  by  way  of  penance.  It  is,  however,  certain  that 
those  women  whom  the  duke  selected  as  the  peculiar 
objects  of  his  homage,  do  rather  more  honor  to  his  taste 
than  the  favorites  of  Charles  do  to  his  :  Lady  Denham, 
Arabella  Churchill,  i\Ii.ss  Sedley,  I^ady  Bellasys,  to  .say 
nothing  of  Miss  Hamilton  and  Miss  Jennings,  whom  he 
also  pa.ssionately  admired,  and  vainly  pursued,  are  proofs 
that  something  like  education  and  refinement  were 
necessary  to  attract  his  attention,  and  something  like 
wit  and  understanding  to  keep  him  awake.  Lady  Bel- 
lasys, who  had  virtue  and  spirit,  as  well  as  wit  and 
bright  eyes,  gained  a  strong  influence  over  his  mind 
without  compromising  her  own  honor  ;  and  after  the 
death  of  the  first  Duchess  of  York,  in  1672,  he  actually 
placed  in  her  hands  a  written  contract  of  marriage,  only 
requiring  secrecy,  at  least  for  a  time.  This  affair  coming 
to  the  knowledge  of  the  king,  some  months  afterwards, 
he  sent  for  his  brother,  and  rebuked  him  very  severely, 
telling  him  that,  "At  his  age  it  was  intolerable  that  he 
should  think  to  play  the  fool  over  again  ;"  alluding  to 
his  former  marriage  with  Anne  Hyde.  But  neither  the 
threats  of  the  king,  nor  the  arguments  and  persuasions 
of  Lord  Bellasys,  her  father-in-law,  who  thought  himself 
obliged,  in  honor  and  duty,  to  interfere,  could,  for  a  long 
time,  induce  Lady  Bellasys  to  give  up  this  contract  of 
marriage,  and  brand  herself  with  dishonor.  She  yielded, 
at  length,  when  the  safety  and  welfare  of  the  duke  and 
the  peace  of  the  nation  were  urged  as  depending  on  her 
compliance  ;  but  even  then,  only  on  condition  that  she 
should  be  allowed  to  keep  an  attested  copy  in  her  own 
possession ;  to  which  they  were  obliged,  though  most 


APPENDIX. 


377 


reluctantly,  to  consent.  In  return  for  this  concession, 
Lady  Bellasys  was  created,  in  1674,  a  peeress  for  life,  by 
the  title  of  Baroness  Bellasys  of  Osgodby,  having  suc- 
ceeded, on  the  death  of  her  father  and  mother,  to  the 
family  estates. 

It  is  said  that  the  Duke  of  York,  who  seems  to  have 
loved  Lady  Bellasys  as  well  as  he  could  love  any  thing, 
made  many  attempts  to  convert  her  to  his  own  religion, 
but  in  vain.  It  was  even  supposed  that  there  was  some 
danger  of  the  lady  converting  her  royal  lover;  a  suspicion 
which  raised  a  strong  party  against  her  among  the 
duke's  Roman  Catholic  dej^endants,  and  led  to  much  of 
the  slander  from  which  her  name  and  fame  have  suf- 
fered. 

About  ten  jears  after  these  events,  Lady  Bellasys 
married  a  gentleman  of  fortune,  whose  name  was  Fortrey, 
of  whom  we  know  nothing,  but  that  she  survived  him. 
Her  son,  Henry  Bellasys,  succeeded,  in  1684,  to  the  title 
and  estates  of  his  grandfather,  as  Lord  Bellasys  of  Worl- 
aby,  and  died  about  the  year  1690 ;  he  married  Anne 
Brudenell,  a  beautiful  woman  and  sister  of  the  celebrated 
Countess  of  Newburgh,  Lord  Lansdown's  Mira.  She 
afterwards  married  Charles  Lennox,  Duke  of  Richmond, 
son  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  and  from  her  the 
present  duke  is  descended. 

It  is  to  be  inferred  from  a  letter  of  Swift  to  Mrs.  Ding- 
ley  (or  rather  to  Stella)  that  Lady  Bellasys  appeared 
again  at  court  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne,  and  from  this 
daughter  of  her  former  lover  she  received  every  mark  of 
distinction  and  respect.  She  died  on  the  6th  of  Jan- 
uary, 1713,  bequeathing  her  rich  inheritance  among  her 
nearest  kinsmen  :  Lord  Berkeley,  of  Stratton,  was  ap- 
pointed the  executor  of  her  will,  with  a  legacy  of  ten 
thousand  pounds. 

Horace  Walpole,  in  allusion  to  this  portrait,  thinks  it 
probable  that  Charles,  by  admitting  Lady  Bellasys  into 
the  gallery  at  Windsor,  meant  to  insinuate  the  superi- 


378 


APPENDIX. 


ority  of  his  own  taste  over  that  of  his  brother  ;  if  so,  he 
has  not  assuredly  taken  the  best  means  of  proving  it, 
since  every  other  face,  however  regular  and  beautiful, 
appears  insipid  when  placed  in  contrast  with  this  noble 
creature — Miss  Hamilton's,  perhaps,  alone  excepted. 

Lady  Bellasys  is  here  represented  as  Saint  Catherine. 
Her  left  hand  rests  on  the  wheel  and  supports  the  palm 
branch  ;  her  right  hand  is  pressed  to  her  bosom.  The 
drapery,  which  is  dark  blue  and  crimson,  falls  round  her 
in  grand  and  ample  folds,  and  is  colored  with  exceeding 
richness.  In  the  background  two  cherubs  are  descend- 
ing to  crown  her  with  myrtle,  and  she  turns  her  large, 
dark  eyes  towards  them  with  an  expression  of  rapturous 
devotion.  Her  jet  black  hair  falling  from  beneath  a 
coronet  of  gems,  flows  in  ringlets  upon  her  neck  ;  and 
this  peculiarity,  as  well  as  the  uncovered  amplitude  of 
the  bosom  and  shoulders,  seems  to  refer  the  portrait  to 
the  time  of  Charles  11.  On  a  critical  examination  of 
the  features,  we  are  obliged  to  allow  the  absence  of 
beauty  ;  the  contour  of  the  face  is  not  perfect,  and  the 
nose  and  mouth  are  rather  irregular  in  form,  but  then, 
as  a  certain  French  cardinal  said  of  his  mistress,  "rV.y/ 
an  moms,  la  plus  belle  irregularite  dn  monde ; ' '  and  the 
eyes  and  brow  are  splendid.  They  have  all  the  life  and 
vivacity  which  Burnet  attributes  to  this  intractable  lady, 
as  he  styles  her.  *  There  is  so  much  of  poetry  and  feeling 
in  the  composition  of  this  picture;  so  miich  of  intellectual 
grandeur  in  the  turn  of  the  head  ;  such  a  freedom  and 
spirit  in  the  mechanical  execution,  and  such  a  rich  tone 
of  color  pervading  the  whole,  that  the  portrait  might 
be  assigned  at  once  to  Vandyke,  if  other  circumstances 
did  not  render  it  improbable.  It  bears  no  traces  of  the 
style  of  Sir  Peter  Lely,  and  I  am  inclined  to  agree  with 
Horace  Walpole,  who  attributes  it  decidedly  to  Huys- 
man.    Huysman  was  the  pupil  of  Vandyke,  and  he  may 


See  Burnet,  History  of  his  Own  Times,  vol.  i.,  p.  393. 


APPENDIX. 


379 


have  painted  this  picture  in  the  early  period  of  his  resi- 
dence in  England,  and  before  he  quitted  the  powerful 
and  spirited  style  of  his  former  master  to  imitate  the 
effeminate  graces  of  Lely.  There  is  at  Gorhambury,  in 
the  possession  of  Lord  Verulam,  a  portrait  of  Queen 
Catherine,  indisputably  by  Huysman;  so  nearly  resem- 
bling this  picture  in  tlie  composition  and  style  of  execu- 
tion that  it  adds  strength  to  this  persuasion  ;  but  I  am 
far  from  presuming  to  decide  where  abler  judges  cannot 
agree. 


JOHN,  EARL  OF  ROCHESTER. 


THE  DUCHESS  OF  PORTSMOUTH. 


BY  MRS.  JAMESON. 

"Her  birth,  her  beauty,  crowds  and  courts  confess, 
Chaste  matrons  praise  her,  and  grave  bishops  bless  ; 
In  golden  chains  the  willing  world  she  draws, 
And  hers  the  gospel  is — and  hers  the  laws  ; 
Mounts  the  tribunal,  lifts  her  scarlet  head. 
And  sees  pale  Virtue  carted  in  her  stead  ! 
Lo  !  at  the  wheels  of  her  triumphant  car 
Old  England's  genius,  rough  with  many  a  scar, 
Dragg'd  in  the  dust !  "—Pope. 

This  is  a  name  disgracefully  celebrated,  but  only  a 
small  portion  of  that  disgrace  can  justly  rest  upon  her 
who  bore  it.  The  period  of  her  reign,  for  so  it  may  be 
called,  is  historically  infamous,  but  the  least  part  of  that 
infamy  rests  upon  the  woman  lierself.  If  we  could  tear 
from  the  chronicles  of  our  country  that  leaf  which  bears 
the  name  of  Louise  de  Queroualle,  it  were  well;  but  since 
this  cannot  be,  we  ought  not  to  close  our  eyes  to  its  im- 
port, for  it  conveys  a  deep  lesson.  It  is  impossible  to 
study  history  without  admitting  that  the  political  influ- 
ence of  women  has  been  great  in  all  ages  ;  it  has  been 
modified  by  the  difference  of  manner  and  the  degree  of 
(.380) 


APPENDIX. 


381 


intelligence — it  has  been  more  or  less  ostensible,  more  or 
less  mischievous — but  at  all  times  it  has  been  great, 
and  it  increases  with  the  progress  of  civilization  and  the 
diffusion  of  knowledge.  It  is  not  in  these  da}-s  that  we 
are  to  listen  to  common-places  out  of  the  "Spectator" 
and  the  "  Ecole  des  Femmes."  Let  it  be  granted,  that 
"  women  are  fonned  for  private  life  alone  ;  "  but  in  that 
privacy,  in  our  nurseries  and  boudoirs,  are  inculcated 
and  directed  the  principles  and  opinions  of  those  men 
who  are  to  legislate  for  the  happiness  and  welfare  of  na- 
tions. This  species  of  indirect  influence  increases  with 
the  spread  of  civilization  and  intelligence  :  it  cannot  be 
denied — it  cannot  be  suppressed  : — is  not  the  next  alter- 
native to  render  it  beneficial  to  societ)'  ?  If  a  woman 
could  once  be  taught  to  feel,  to  appreciate  the  grand 
stake  she  has  in  the  political  institutions  of  her  country, 
and  to  understand  the  interests  of  humanity  at  large,  she 
would  no  longer  mix  up  with  these  considerations  the 
petty  passions,  errors  and  prejudices,  and  personal  feel- 
ings which  have  rendered  at  all  times  the  political  inter- 
ference and  influence  of  the  sex  a  fertile  source  of  evil, 
and  a  never-failing  topic  of  reproach  and  regret ;  for  evil 
has  been  almost  constantly  the  result.  The  gallantry 
of  men  and  the  vanity  of  women  may  here  suggest  in- 
stances of  the  contrary;  but  for  one  Volumnia  how  many 
Cleopatras  ?  for  one  Agnes  Sorel  how  many  Pompadours 
and  Portsmouths?  One  thing,  however,  is  certain,  that, 
thanks  to  the  progressive  diffusion  of  freedom  and  knowl- 
edge, we  are  not  likely  to  behold  again  in  civilized 
Europe  the  common  decencies  of  life  braved  by  the  in- 
solent triumph  of  a  "  maitresse  en  titre  :"  nor  "sin  in 
state,  majestically  drunk,"  trampling  over  the  destinies 
of  great  nations  and  the  interests  of  millions  of  men.  A 
Maintenon  will  never  more  half  depopulate  France,  nor 
a  Portsmouth  bargain  with  a  foreign  despot  for  the  sale 
of  English  liberty. 

Louise  Renee  de  Penencovet  de  Qudroualle,  of  a  noble 


382 


APPENDIX. 


but  impoverished  family  in  Brittany,  was  appointed 
maid  of  honor  to  the  Duchess  of  Orleans,  sister  of  Charles 
II.  and  James  II.,  in  the  year  1669  ;  she  was  not  more 
than  nineteen,  when,  by  the  interest  of  some  relations  in 
power,  she  was  taken  from  the  convent  to  which  the 
poverty  of  her  house  had  at  first  consigned  her,  appar- 
ently for  life,  and  at  once  introduced  to  all  the  pleasures 
and  temptations  of  a  magnificent  and  dissipated  court  ; 
her  introduction  took  place  at  a  critical  moment,  and  in 
deciding  her  future  fate  has  made  her  destiny  and  char- 
acter matter  of  history. 

The  conquest  or  the  ruin  of  Holland  had  long  been 
one  of  the  favorite  projects  of  Louis  XIV.  The  Dutch, 
however,  resisted  his  overgrown  power,  as  their  ances- 
tors had  formerly  defied  that  of  Philip  II.  of  Spain.  In 
order  to  carry  his  plans  into  execution,  Louis  found  it 
necessary  to  detach  England  from  the  interests  of  Hol- 
land. This  was  matter  of  some  difficulty,  for  an  alliance 
with  France  against  Holland  was  so  odious  to  all  parties 
in  England,  so  contrary  to  the  national  prejudices  and 
interests,  that,  though  Louis  did  not  despair  of  cajoling 
or  bribing  Charles  into  such  a  treaty,  the  utmost  caution 
and  secrecy  were  necessary  in  conducting  it. 

The  only  person  who  was  at  first  trusted  with  this 
negotiation  was  Henrietta,  Duchess  of  Orleans,  the  sister 
of  Charles,  and  sister-in-law  of  Louis,  fatally  celebrated 
in  French  history  as  Madame  d' Angleterre.  She  was 
at  this  time  about  five-and-twenty,  a  singular  mixture 
of  discretion,  or  rather  dissimulation,  with  rashness  and 
petulance  ;  of  exceeding  haughtiness,  with  a  winning 
sweetness  of  manner  and  disposition,  which  gained  all 
hearts.  She  had  inherited  some  of  the  noble  qualities 
of  her  grandfather  Henri  Quatre,  and  all  the  graces  and 
intriguing  spirit  of  her  mother  Henrietta  Maria.  Early 
banished  from  England  by  the  misfortunes  of  her  family, 
she  regarded  the  country  of  her  birth  with  indifference, 
if  not  abhorrence.     A  French  woman  in  education. 


APPENDIX. 


383 


inauners,  mind  and  heart,  she  was  an  English  woman 
only  in  the  peculiar  style  of  her  beauty,  uniting  the 
utmost  majesty  of  form  with  a  profusion  of  light  hair, 
eyes  as  blue  and  bright  as  those  of  Pallas,  and  a  com- 
plexion "  petri  de  lis  et  de  roses."  On  her  husband,  the 
worthless,  stupid,  profligate  Duke  of  Orleans,  her  wit 
and  charms  were  equally  thrown  away.  Louis  was  well 
aware  of  her  unbounded  power  over  the  mind  of  Charles 
II. ,  whose  affection  for  her  was  said  to  exceed  that  of  a 
brother  for  a  sister  :  he  had  never  been  known  to  refuse 
her  anything  she  had  asked  for  herself  or  others,  and 
Louis  trusted  that  her  fascinations  would  gain  from  the 
King  of  England  what  reason  and  principle  and  patri- 
otism would  have  denied. 

To  cover  the  interview  between  the  brother  and  sister 
with  some  kind  of  pretext  which  should  give  it  the  ap- 
pearance of  an  accidental  or  friendly  meeting,  Louis 
undertook  a  progress  to  his  new  Flemish  provinces  ;  and 
until  Catherine  of  Russia  astonished  Europe  by  her 
pompous  triumphal  voyage  down  the  Bosphorus,  noth- 
ing had  equalled  in  lavish  and  luxurious  ostentation 
this  famous  journey.  An  army  of  thirty  thousand  men 
preceded  and  followed  the  royal  party  :  in  one  spacious 
and  superb  equipage,  all  glass  and  gilding,  travelled 
the  king,  the  queen,  Henrietta,  and  Madame  de  Montes- 
pan  ;  then  followed  their  respective  retinues ;  then  the 
princesses ;  the  dauphin  and  his  court,  Mademoiselle 
de  Montpensier  (la  grande  Mademoiselle)  and  her  court. 
This  was  just  before  the  fatal  affair  of  her  marriage  with 
Lauzun,  who  on  this  occasion  rode  at  the  head  of  the 
royal  guards.  It  was  a  perpetual  series  of  fetes,  ban- 
quets, and  triumphs ;  the  apparent  honors  were  princi- 
pally for  jNIadame  de  Montespan  ;  the  real  object  of  this 
splendid  journey  was  known  only  to  Henrietta  of  Or- 
leans, who  enjoyed  in  secret  her  own  importance,  which 
gave  a  new  zest  to  the  pleasures  with  which  she  was 
surrounded.    When  arrived  at  Dunkirk,  she  embarked 


'384  APPENDIX. 

for  England,  with  a  small  but  chosen  retinue,  and  met 
her  brother  at  Dover,  where  this  celebrated  conference 
took  place.  The  event  showed  that  Louis  had  not 
reckoned  too  much  on  her  power  ;  she  gained  from  the 
facile  and  unprincipled  Charles  all  that  she  asked,  and 
the  shameful  treaty  which  rendered  the  King  of  England 
the  pensioned  tool  of  France,  was  arranged  at  Dover  in 
the  beginning  of  June,  1670.* 

Henrietta  broiight  in  her  train  Mademoiselle  de 
Queroualle,  and  during  her  short  stay,  the  exceeding 
beauty  and  almost  childish  graces  of  this  young  girl 
captivated  Charles,  who  was  observed  to  pay  her  much 
attention  ;  she,  however,  returned  to  Versailles  with  her 
royal  mistress,  and  there,  within  a  few  days  afterwards, 
witnessed  her  dreadful  death.  Voltaire  doubts,  or  affects 
to  doubt,  that  Henrietta  was  poisoned,  because  of  the 
odium  which  such  a  suspicion  must  have  thrown  on  the 
father  of  his  patron,  the  Regent-Duke  of  Orleans  ;  but 
the  recent  publication  of  some  private  memoirs  of  that 
time  has  cleared  up  the  shocking  myster>%  The  in- 
trigues which  led  to  the  murder  of  this  unhappy  woman, 
present  such  a  scene  of  accumulated  horrors  and  in- 
iquity, that  for  the  honor  of  hi:man  nature,  one  could 
wish  that  the  curtain  had  never  been  raised  which  hid 
them  from  our  knowledge. 

On  the  occasion  of  her  death,  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham was  sent  over  to  France  as  envoy  extraordinary  ;  he 
had  been  the  first  to  observe  the  impression  which 
Mademoiselle  de  Queroualle  had  made  on  the  king's 
excitable  fancy,  and  he  resolved  to  turn  it  to  his  own 
advantage.  He  had  quarrelled  with  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland — had  sworn  hatred  and  vengeance  against  her; 
and  now  to  raise  her  up  a  rival  who  should  be  wholly 

*  France  agreed  to  give  two  millions  of  livres  (150,000/. )  for  the  king's 
conversion  to  Popery  ;  and  three  millions  a  year  for  the  Dutch  war. 
Large  sums  of  money  were  distributed  to  Buckingham,  Arlington, 
Clifford. 


LOUISE  UE  QUEROUALLE,  DUCHESS  OF  PORTSMOUTH. 


APPENDIX. 


385 


governed  by  himself,  seemed  to  this  Proteixs  of  gallantry 
and  harlequin  of  politics,  a  very  master-stroke  of  art, — 
worthy  of  Alachiavel  himself  He  persuaded  Louis 
seriously,  that  the  only  way  to  bind  Charles  to  the 
French  interest,  was  to  give  him  a  French  mistress  :  and 
he  told  Charles  jestingly,  that  he  ought  to  take  charge 
of  his  sister's  favorite  attendant,  if  only  out  of  "  decent 
tenderness"  for  her  memory.  As  to  Mademoiselle  de 
Queroualle,  a  convent  was  all  she  could  look  to  in 
France,  and  she  was  not  found  impracticable.  Matters, 
in  short,  were  soon  arranged  ;  an  invitation,  so  decor- 
ously worded  as  to  spare  the  lady's  blushes,  was  sent 
from  the  English  Court,  and  she  was  immediately  de- 
spatched to  Dieppe  with  part  of  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham's suite,  and  his  Grace's  promise  to  join  her  with  all 
convenient  speed.  But  what  did  that  most  careless  and 
inconsistent  of  human  beings?  His  admirable  scheme 
of  policy,  by  which  he  was  to  build  up  his  own  fortunes 
and  power,  and  ruin  all  his  enemies,  was  but  "one  of 
the  thousand  freaks  that  died  in  thinking  ;"  he  totally 
forgot  both  the  lady  and  his  promise,  and  leaving  the  dis- 
consolate nymph  at  Dieppe  to  manage  as  she  could, 
passed  over  to  England  by  way  of  Calais.  Montagu, 
then  our  ambassador  at  Paris,  hearing  of  the  duke's  egre- 
gious blunder,  immediately  sent  over  for  a  yacht,  and 
ordered  some  of  his  own  people  to  convey  her  with  all 
honor  to  Whitehall,  where  she  was  received  by  Lord 
Arlington  with  the  utmost  respect,  and  immediately 
appointed  maid  of  honor  to  the  queen.  "Thus,"  says 
Burnet,  "  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  lost  all  the  merit  he 
might  have  pretended  to,  and  brought  over  a  mistress, 
whom  his  own  strange  conduct  threw  into  the  hands  of 
his  enemies." 

Though  the  lady  carried  it  at  first  very  demurely,  the 
purpose  of  her  visit  was  pretty  well  understood.  *  Dry- 

*  It  had  been  foretold  apparently,  for  Madame  de  Sevign^  thus  writes 
to  her  daughter:  "  Ne  trouverez-vous  pas  bon  ue  savoir  que  Keroual 
25 


386 


APPENDIX. 


den,  the  court-poet  of  the  time,  hailed  her  arrival  in 
some  complimentary  stanzas,  entitled  the  "Fair  Stran- 
ger," not  worth  quoting  here  ;*  and  St.  Evremond  ad- 
dressed to  her  an  epistle,  which  for  different  reasons  I 
shall  refrain  from  quoting  ;  it  is  sufficient  that  the  ele- 
gance of  the  diction  was  worthy  of  his  pen  ;  the  senti- 
ments worthy  of  his  epicurean  philosophy  ;  and  the 
morality — worthy  of  the  occasion.! 

The  next  we  hear  of  Mademoiselle  de  Queroualle  is 
from  Evelyn,  who  notes  in  his  diary  that  he  had  seen 
"  that  famous  beauty,  the  new  French  maid  of  honor  ;" 
but  adds,  "in  my  opinion  she  is  of  a  childish,  simple, 
and  baby  face."  We  may  judge  from  all  the  pictures  of 
la  Queroualle,  that  when  young,  her  beauty,  though  ex- 
quisite, must  have  had  the  character,  or  rather  the  want 
of  character,  thus  described  by  Evelyn.  J  Within  a  year 
afterwards  he  met  her  on  a  visit  at  Euston,  the  seat  of 
Lord  Arlington,  where  she  was  obviously  invited  for  the 
gratification  of  Charles.  The  French  ambassador,  Col- 
bert, and  a  number  of  ladies  of  high  rank,  nobles  and 
courtiers,  were  there  at  the  time.  Charles  came  over 
every  other  day  from  Newmarket,  and  made  no  secret  of 
his  attentions  to  the  young  beauty. 

In  the  year  1672  she  bore  the  king  a  son  (who  was 
created  in  1675  Duke  of  Richmond  and  Earl  of  March  in 
England,  and  Duke  of  Lennox  and  Earl  of  Darnley  in 
Scotland).  In  the  following  year  Mademoiselle  de  Que- 
roualle was  created  by  letters  patent  (August  19,  1673) 
Baroness  Petersfield,  Countess  of  Farneham  and  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth.    Yet  further  to  exalt  and  blazon  a  shame 


dont  r^toile  avail  6ie  devitiee  avant  qu'elle  partit,  I'a  suivie  tres-fidele- 
ment?  Le  Roi  d'Angleterre  raaimee,  elle  s'est  trouve  avec  line  l^gere 
disposition  a  ne  le  pas  hair;  enfin,  etc."    Lettre  190. 

*See  Dryden's  Works,  Scott's  edit.,  vol.  xi.,  p.  163. 

t  CEuvres  de  St.  Evreviond,  vol.  iii.,  p.  280. 

X  Evelyn's  Diary.  This  note  is  dated  November,  1670,  about  a  month 
after  her  arrival  in  England. 


APPENDIX. 


387 


which  sought  neither  disguise  nor  conceahnent,  Louis 
XIV.  conferred  on  her  the  Duchy  of  Aubigny,  in  the 
Province  of  Berri,  in  France,  as  a  mark  of  his  friendship 
for  liis  good  brother  the  King  of  England,  and  of  his  re- 
spect for  the  lady,  whose  progenitors,  as  the  preamble  sets 
forth,  "had  always  held  a  considerable  rank  in  Brittanv, 
and  had  done  good  service  to  the  throne,  etc."  Finding 
that  she  was  likely  to  prove  a  staunch  supporter  of  his 
interests  in  England,  Louis  added  to  the  title  and  dig- 
nity of  Duchess  and  Peeress  of  France  the  revenues  of 
the  territory  of  Aubigny,  and  a  considerable  pension. 

The  imbounded  power  which  this  woman  acquired 
over  the  easy  disposition  of  her  roj  al  lover  was  not  owing 
to  any  superiority  of  wit  or  intellect,  nor  did  she  attempt 
to  govern  him  like  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  by  violence 
and  caprices;  though  imperious  and  wilful,  she  was  more 
artful  and  flexible  ;  she  studied  to  please  and  observe  the 
king  until  she  had  fixed  him,  then  if  he  refused  or  de- 
layed her  wishes,  she  had  tears  and  sullens,  and  fits  of 
sickness  at  command.  Her  rapacity  and  prodigality 
were  quite  equal  to  those  of  her  predecessor.  "This 
day,"  says  Evelyn,  "  I  was  casually  shown  the  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth's  splendid  apartment  at  Whitehall,  lux- 
uriously furnished,  and  with  ten  times  the  richness  and 
glory  of  the  queen's  ;  such  massy  pieces  of  plate,  whole 
tables,  stands,  etc.,  of  incredible  value!"  And  yet  at 
this  time  Charles  was  reduced  to  the  basest  expedients 
for  money  :  shuffling  with  his  ministers,  duping  his 
friends,  exasperating  his  people,  and  absolutely  begging 
like  a  mendicant  of  Louis  XIV.  and  using  the  interces- 
sion of  the  duchess  to  obtain  from  him  occasional  sup- 
plies. * 


*The  Whig  part}-,  at  oue  of  their  meetings,  proposed  to  impeach 
some  of  his  mistresses,  upon  account  of  the  poverty  in  which  their  ex- 
travagance had  involved  him.  On  which  old  Lord  IVIordaunt  said  : 
"That  they  ought  rather  to  erect  statues  to  the  ladies  who  made  their 
lover  dependent  on  Parliament  for  his  subsistence." 


388 


APPENDIX. 


The  following  note  in  Evelyn^  also  relating  to  the  ex- 
travagance of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  is  very  char- 
acteristic. "  FollowingHis  Majesty  this  morning  through 
the  gallery,  I  went  with  the  few  who  attended  him  into 
the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth's  dressing-room,  within  her 
bed-chamber,  where  she  was  in  her  morning  loose  gar- 
ment, her  maids  combing  her,  newly  out  of  her  bed,  His 
Majesty  and  the  gallants  standing  about  her  ;  but  that 
which  engaged  my  curiosity  was  the  rich  and  splendid 
furniture  of  this  woman's  apartment,  now  twice  or  thrice 
pulled  down  and  rebuilt  to  satisfy  her  prodigality  and 
expensive  pleasures,  while  Her  Majesty's  does  not  exceed 
some  gentlemen's  wives  in  furniture  and  accommodation. 
Here  I  saw  the  new  fabric  of  French  tapestry,  for  design, 
tenderness  of  work  and  incomparable  imitation  of  the 
best  paintings,  beyond  anything  I  had  ever  beheld. 
Some  pieces  had  Versailles,  St.  Germains,  and  other 
palaces  of  the  French  king,  with  huntings,  figures  and 
landscapes,  exotic  fowls,  and  all  to  the  life,  rarely  done. 
Then  for  Japan  cabinets,  screens,  pendule  clocks,  great 
vases  of  wrought  plate,  tables,  stands,  chimney  furni- 
ture, sconces,  branches,  braseras,  etc.,  all  of  massive  sil- 
ver, and  out  of  number  ;  besides  some  of  His  Majesty's 
best  paintings.  Surfeiting  of  this,  I  dined  at  Sir  Stephen 
Fox's,  and  went  contented  home  to  my  poor  biit  quiet 
villa.  What  contentment  can  there  be  in  the  riches  and 
splendor  of  this  world  purchased  with  vice  and  dis- 
honor ! ' ' 

There  was  in  truth  but  little  of  contentment  within 
those  splendid  walls.  It  may  be  that  there  was  not  much 
repentance  for  the  sin — nor  much  sense  of  dishonor — but 
fears  and  jealousies,  and  perplexities,  and  heart-aches  ; 
disgraceful  and  malicious  intrigues,  piiblic  and  private 
conspiracies,  and  all  the  demons  that  wait  on  pride, 
avarice,  perfidy,  ambition,  haunted  the  precincts  of 
this  temple  of  luxury  ;  the  new  peeress  in  her  gems 
and  ermine,  was  laughed  at  by  Nell   Gwyn,  hated 


APrKxnix.  380 

by  the  queen,  despised  in  private,  and  lampooned  in 
public. 

In  1675,  the  arrival  of  the  Duchess  of  Mazarin  in  Eng- 
land had  nearly  overturned  the  empire  of  the  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth.  That  "  ladyc  errant,"  after  many  and 
notable  adventures,  came  over  with  the  professed  inten- 
tion of  captivating  the  king  ;  that  very  king  to  whom 
the  short-sighted  policy  of  her  uncle  had  once  refused 
her  as  a  bride  !  *  Hortense  concealed,  under  a  languid 
air  and  a  careless  manner,  as  much  arrogance  and  ambi- 
tion as  a  Cleveland  or  a  Portsmouth,  with  more  natural 
wit  than  either  of  them.  But  born  to  beauty,  rank, 
power,  wealth,  she  was  the  complete  spoiled  child  of 
nature  and  fortune  ;  a  sort  of  female  Buckingham,  in  her 
uncontrollable  passions,  her  extravagant  whims,  and  in- 
stability of  purpose.  She  had  scarcely  arrived  in  Lon- 
don, where  she  was  received  with  distinction,  when  a 
sudden  passion  for  the  Prince  de  Monaco  put  to  flight  all 
her  ambitious  views  on  the  heart  of  Charles  ;  for  with 
her  the  last  caprice  was  ever  paramount.  The  court  was 
thus  spared  the  delectable  amusement  of  a  combat  of 
daggers  or  bodkins  between  the  rival  duchesses  ;  but  St. 
Evremond  was  in  despair,  and  Charles  in  a  fury.  The 
vagrant  heart  of  this  royal  Squire  of  Dames  had  been 
captivated  in  the  first  moment  by  the  attractions  of  Maz- 
arin ;  she  was  now  dismissed  from  Whitehall,  and  he 
withdrew  her  pension.  After  a  while  his  wrath  sub- 
sided, he  restored  her  pension  at  the  earnest  intercession 
of  some  of  her  friends  at  court,  but  returned  to  La  Ports- 
mouth, whose  power  over  him  was  increased  by  this 
short  estrangement  ;  she  could  not,  however,  by  all  her 
arts,  detach  him  from  Nell  (iwyn,  whose  genuine  wit, 
unfailing  animal  spirits,  and  careless  humor,  were  a  re- 

*  It  is  true,  that  Charles  in  his  exile  had  offered  to  marry  this  niece 
of  Cardinal  Mazarin,  and  it  is  true  that  the  offer  was  refused  ;  it  was 
then  Mazarin's  interest  to  keep  well  with  Croniwell,  and  the  return  of 
Charles  to  his  throne  was  deemed  impossible. 


390 


APPENDIX. 


lief  from  the  vapors,  caprices  and  political  cabals  which 
often  annoyed  him  in  the  duchess's  boudoir.* 

As  years  passed  on,  her  power  grew  by  habit,  and  with 
it  her  arrogance.  The  ladies  of  the  court  tossed  their 
heads  at  poor  Nell,  the  untitled  mistress — but  the  most 
immaculate  in  character,  the  most  illustrious  in  rank, 
thought  themselves  happy  in  the  notice  and  intimacy  of 
the  ennobled  courtesan.  Now  and  then  she  had  to  en- 
dure mortifications  ;  it  is  true,  the  Arlingtons,  the  Sun- 
derlands,  the  Arundels,  the  Cliffords,  the  Lauderdales — 
even  the  lovely  young  Duchess  of  York,  combined  to  sur- 
round the  favorite  with  a  glory  which  kept  her  in  counte- 
nance and  served  to  gild  over  her  shame — but  the  Russells, 
the  Cavendishes,  the  Butlers,  stood  aloof.  She  once  sent 
word  to  the  excellent  and  venerable  Duchess  of  Ormonde 
that  she  would  dine  with  her  on  such  a  day.  The 
duchess  did  not  decline  the  honor^  but  she  sent  her  two 
grand-daughters.  Lady  Betty  Stanhope  and  Lady  Emily 
Butler,  out  of  the  house  on  this  occasion,  and  received 
the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  alone.  They  sat  down  to  din- 
ner, with  only  her  chaplain  en  tiers ;  and  we  may  easily 
suppose  that  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  did  not  again 
invite  herself  to  the  table  of  the  Duchess  of  Ormonde,  f 

Carte,  who  gives  m>  this  characteristic  trait,  has  also 
related  an  almost  incredible  instance  of  the  impertinence. 


*  One  of  Andrew  Marvel's  satires  thus  alludes  to  the  indolent  Charles 
and  his  insolent  mistresses  : 

"  In  loj'al  libels  we  have  often  told  him 
How  one  has  jilted  him,  the  other  sold  him  ; 
How  that  affects  to  laugh,  how  this  to  weep, 
But  who  can  rail  so  long  as  he  can  sleep  ! 
Was  ever  Prince  by  two  at  once  misled. 
False,  foolish,  old,  ill-natured  and  ill-bred?" 

At  all  times  the  licence  of  personal  satire  has  kept  pace  with  the 
licence  of  manners  and  morals,  but  the  remedy  is  sometimes  as  bad  as 
the  disease — or  rather  is  itself  a  disease. 

t  Carte's  Life  of  Ormonde. 


APPENDIX. 


391 


rapacity,  and  influeuce  of  the  favorite.  When  the 
daughter  of  the  ill-fated  Henrietta  of  Orleans  became 
Queen  of  Spain,*  Charles  ordered  the  famous  jeweller 
Laguse  to  prepare  an  ornament  of  gems  of  the  value  of 
fifteen  thousand  pounds,  as  a  present  to  his  niece ;  and 
Lord  Ossory  was  appointed  envoy  extraordinary'  to 
convey  it  to  her,  with  the  usual  compliment  of  congratu- 
lation ;  but  the  duchess  having  in  the  interim  cast  her 
eyes  on  the  jewel,  it  so  pleased  her  fancy  that  she  insisted 
on  appropriating  it.  The  king  had  every  art  but  the  art 
of  saying  no^  and  Ossory's  journey  was  stopped,  on  the 
plea  that  economy  was  the  order  of  the  day,  and  that  it 
■was  too  expensive  ;  on  the  same  economical  principle  the 
jewel  was  presented  to  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth. 
What  became  of  it  afterwards  I  do  not  know. 

On  another  occasion  the  Duke  of  York  took  it  into 
his  head  to  descant  in  her  presence  on  the  virtue  and 
piety  of  Louis  XIV.  who,  at  the  command  of  a  new 
confessor,  had  sent  Montespan  into  a  convent  during 
Lent,  in  order  that  he  might  be  contrite  with  a  better 
grace.  The  duke  related  all  the  circumstances  and 
dwelt  upon  them  with  much  eloquence  and  solemnity, 
to  the  infinite  impatience  and  embarrassment  of  the 
duchess  ;  she  was  however  qiiiite  pour  la  frayeur. 

The  queen  detested  her ;  but  the  little  spirit  which 
poor  Catherine  had  at  first  exhibited,  as  well  as  her 
affection  for  the  king,  had  long  subsided, — the  first  into 
passive  endurance,  the  latter  into  absolute  indifference. 
When  the  act  was  passed  in  1678,  obliging  all  persons  to 
take  a  test  against  Popery,  and  a  proviso  was  inserted  in 
favor  of  the  queen  and  nine  ladies  about  her  person,  she 
required  all  her  attendants  to  cast  lots,  but  named  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth  with  herself,  as  excepted,  and 
not  to  be  exposed  to  the  uncertainty  of  a  lot.    The  ex- 


*  She  was  sent  into  Spain  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  and  perished,  like 
her  mother,  iu  the  bloom  of  youth,  and  by  a  similar  death. 


392 


APPENDIX. 


cuse  made  for  this  piece  of  complacency  to  her  rival  was 
her  own  perilons  situation,  which  made  it  necessary  to 
display  an  extreme  alacrity  in  anticipating  the  wishes 
of  the  king.  This  conduct,  the  effect  of  fear  only, 
excited  so  little  gratitiide,  that  not  long  afterwards  we 
have  an  instance  of  the  abject  and  heartless  slavery  of 
Charles,  and  of  the  unfeeling  insolence  of  his  sultana, 
which  cannot  be  recorded  without  indignation.  The 
duchess  was  lady  of  the  bed-chamber  to  the  queen  as 
Lady  Castlemaine  had  been  before  her  ;  not  so  much  to 
preserve  appearances,  as  to  give  her,  by  virtue  of  her 
office,  a  right  to  lodgings  in  Whitehall.  It  may  easily 
be  imagined  that  the  duties  of  her  place  were  dispensed 
with  ;  but  on  one  occasion,  contrary  to  her  usual  custom 
and  the  queen's  wishes,  she  chose  to  attend  on^  Her 
Majesty  at  dinner,  and  behaved  with  so  much  effrontery, 
that  the  queen,  who  had  little  command  of  temper,  was 
thrown  into  extreme  disorder,  and  at  last  biirst  into 
tears.*  The  duchess  laughed  behind  her  fan,  and 
uttered  some  words  of  derision  almost  aloud  : — this 
audacity  excited  so  much  disgust  and  indignation  that 
the  king  interposed.  Catherine's  spirit  was,  however, 
a  mere  flash  of  excited  temper,  and  the  next  time  we 
hear  of  her  she  is  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth's  partner 
at  Loo.  t 

Many  intrigues  were  carried  on  against  the  imperious 
favorite ;  many  attempts  were  made  to  remove  her,  or 
introduce  a  rival,  or  a  substitute,  in  the  heart  of  the  in- 
dolent, inconstant  Charles — but  without  effect.  She 
had  numerous  enemies,  and  not  one  friend  ;  but  she  had 
so  many  spies  and  dependants  around  her ;  she  was  so 
well  served  through  fear  or  interest,  that  she  contrived 
to  anticipate  or  defeat  all  the  plots  against  her,  and  keep 
old  Rowley  chained  to  her  footstool  while  he  lived.  J 

*  Sir  John  Reresby's  Memoirs, 
t  Lady  Sunderland's  Letters. 

X  The  interest  of  the  story  of  "  Peveril  of  the  Peak  "  turns  on  a  plot 


APPENDIX. 


393 


Nor  did  she  reign  merely  through  the  influence  of  her 
beauty  and  her  feminine  arts.  If  this  woman  had  con- 
fined herself  to  securing  her  personal  influence  in  the 
heart  of  Charles — if  she  had  been  satisfied  with  amassing 
wealth  and  appropriating  diamonds,  the  world  had 
wanted  one  signal  instance  of  mischievous,  misplaced 
power  in  our  sex.  We  find  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth 
almost  from  her  first  arrival  in  England  engaged  in  the 
deepest  and  most  dangerous  state  intrigues  ;  and  so  com- 
pletely did  she  fulfil  the  intentions  and  instructions  of 
Louis,  in  binding  her  lover  to  the  French  interests,  that 
England,  to  use  the  strong  expression  of  one  historian, 
"was,  in  her  time,  little  better  than  a  province  of 
France. ' '  As  far  as  the  government  was  concerned  this 
was  true  ;  but  fortunately  the  tide  of  national  feeling  had 
set  in  a  contrary  direction,  and  though  repressed  for  a 
while,  it  was  afterwards  nobly  asserted. 

In  the  boudoir  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  was  con- 
certed that  treaty,  or  rather  that  conspiracy,  between 
Charles  II.  and  Louis  XIV.  a  principal  article  of  which 
was,  that  Charles  should  not  call  a  Parliament  for  a 
certain  number  of  years,  and  that  during  that  time  he 
should  have  money  from  the  court  of  France  to  enable 
him  to  govern  independently,  and  carry  his  measures 
without  the  consent  of  his  people.  The  amount  of  this 
pension  caused  much  dispute.  The  plea  used  by  Charles 
to  persuade  Louis  to  come  in  to  his  terms  was,  "  that  it 
would  render  England  for  ever  dependant  on  him,  and 
put  it  out  of  the  power  of  the  English  to  oppose  him. ' ' 

of  this  kind,  fictitious  of  course,  but  resembling  in  its  outline  the  story 
of  Miss  Lawson.  The  king  obtained  the  nickname  of  Old  Rowley, 
from  that  of  an  ugly  old  horse  in  the  royal  stud,  which  was  celebrated 
for  the  number  and  beauty  of  its  offspring.  He  was  ignorant  of  this 
satirical  cognomen,  till  one  day  happening  to  visit  one  of  the  maids  of 
honor,  he  found  her  singing  a  most  libellous  song  on  "  Old  Rowley  the 
King."  After  listening  a  few  minutes  at  the  door,  he  tapped  gently  ; 
"Who's  there?"  said  Miss  Lawson  from  within  ;  "Old  Rowley  him- 
self, madam,"  replied  the  king,  opening  the  door. 


394 


APPENDIX. 


These  were  the  king's  own  words — may  they  stick  like 
plague-spots  to  his  memory  !  The  Duchess  of  Ports- 
mouth promised  for  her  lover,  that  if  Louis  would  give 
four  million  of  livres,  he  should  enter  into  all  the  en- 
gagements the  King  of  France  could  desire.  The  terms 
were  at  last  arranged  between  Bouillon  the  French 
envoy,  and  Lord  Sunderland. 

During  this  secret  negotiation,  French  money  was 
lavished  on  all  sides  d  pleines  mains:  not  only  the  min- 
isters, courtiers,  and  their  dependants,  but  some  of  the 
women  of  the  highest  rank  in  the  Court  accepted  pres- 
ents gratifications  from  France,  on  conditions  pretty 
well  understood;  and  "  «c>/  to  be  corrupted,  was  the 
shame."*  Many  of  these  transactions  were  well  known 
to  the  king,  who  treated  them  with  profligate  indiffer- 
ence and  even  raillery.  While  Charles  and  his  confidants 
were  bribed  into  compliance  with  the  wishes  of  Louis, 
the  French  ambassador  and  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth 
were  intriguing  with  the  popular  or  Whig  party,  in 
order  to  embarrass  the  government,  and  prevent  the 
king  from  becoming  too  independent :  and  Charles  was 

*The  French  Minister  thus  writes  to  his  master — "Lady  Arlington 
having  offered  in  her  husband's  presence  to  accept  of  the  present  in- 
tended for  her  husband,  he  reproached  her,  but  very  obligingly." 
About  a  year  afterwards,  he  says  : — "My  Lord  Arlington  made  me  a 
visit  on  purpose  to  let  me  know  how  much  he  is  penetrated  with  the 
marks  of  esteem  and  distinction  which  Your  Majesty  has  given  by  the 
magnificent  present  made  to  Lady  Arlington."  Again,  "Lady  Shrews- 
burj-,  on  receiving  her  French  pension,  said.  She  would  make  Buck- 
ingham comply  with  the  king  in  all  things."  Again,  "If  Your  Maj- 
esty thinks  I  ought  again  to  press  Lord  Hollis  to  except  the  box  of 
diamonds,  I  may,  by  means  of  Lady  Hollis,  make  him  accept  of  it.  I 
don't  presume  she  will  be  .so  difficult  as  he  has  been."  (Lord  Hollis 
died  before  the  box  could  be  again  offeied  to  him,  and  it  was  given  to 
Lord  St.  Albans.)  Montagu  was  promised  100,000  livres  for  contriving 
the  disgrace  and  fall  of  Lord  Dauby,  (but  received  only  half  the  sum  ;) 
"  Lord  Sunderland  and  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  hinted  that  they 
expected  gratifications  from  France."  (They  received  10,000  and 
5000  pistoles  with  a  very  good  grace.)  See  the  original  despatches 
quoted  in  Dalrymple's  Appendix. 


APPENDIX. 


396 


duping,  or  trjing  to  dupe,  all  parlies  in  turn.  In  the 
midst  of  this  scene  of  perfidy  and  meanness,  and  moral 
and  political  abasement, — while  the  traitor  nobles,  and 
their  more  traitorous  king,  were  licking  the  dust  like 
reptiles  round  the  footstool  of  a  French  courtesan,  was 
she  on  whom  so  much  of  the  odium  has  been  thrown, 
the  most  culpable  or  the  most  contemptible  figure  in  the 
vile  group?  Like  Circe,  who  retained  her  human  and 
feminine  attributes  in  the  midst  of  the  herd  of  wretches 
around  her,  transformed  and  degraded  by  the  taste  of 
her  enchanted  cup,  she  had  still  some  womanly  feelings 
left — and  for  her^  Justice  might  find  some  excuse, — for 
the  others  none.  She  was  introduced  to  the  French 
Court  just  in  time  to  witness  the  elevation  and  triumph 
of  Madame  de  Montespan  ;  to  see  her  the  object  of  envy 
to  the  wom^en,  and  of  obsequious  homage  to  the  men ;  to 
see  her  carriage  surrounded  by  a  troop  of  horse,  and  her 
levee  crowded  by  obsequious  nobles ; — Was  it  to  be  ex- 
pected that  she  alone  was  to  look  beyond  this  illusion, 
and  turn  from  a  temptation  which  she  had  learned  to 
regard  as  an  object  of  ambition  ?  She  was  a  foreigner  ; 
treachery  to  England  was  truth  and  good  service  to  her 
own  country  ;  perfidy  on  one  side  was  patriotism  on  the 
other, — at  least  it  has  been  accounted  so  in  other  hero- 
ines ;  only  this  French  Judith  was  satisfied  with  turning 
the  head  of  her  lover,  and  had  no  wish  to  cut  it  off. 
Farther — she  was  a  woman,  with  the  feelings  and  affec- 
tions of  a  woman.  She  was  attached  to  Charles,  was 
true  to  him — to  him  who  believed  her  the  only  friend  he 
had  in  the  world,  yet  did  not  hesitate  to  dupe  her  when- 
ever he  wished  through  her  to  dupe  others.  She  doated 
on  her  son,  and  by  these  two  feelings,  superior  even  to 
her  fears  and  her  avarice,  she  was  frequently  governed 
by  the  intriguing  ministers  around  her.  For  instance, 
when  the  Bill  to  exclude  the  Duke  of  York  from  the 
throne  was  agitated  with  such  factious  clamor,  the  nation 
beheld  the  strange  spectacle  of  the  French  mistress, 


396 


APPENDIX. 


leagued  with  the  Whig  and  Protestant  faction,  and  in- 
triguing with  the  popular  leaders  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons against  the  Court ;  because  that  Machiavel, 
Shaftesbury,  had  represented  to  her,  that  if  the  usual 
law  of  succession  was  once  set  aside,  her  son  the  Duke 
of  Richmond  would  become  of  more  importance,  and 
even  have  some  chance  of  succeeding  to  the  throne  :  and 
such  was  her  ignorance  or  her  imbecility,  that  she  fell 
at  once  into  the  snare.  They  also  worked  on  her  fears 
by  threatening  to  vote  her  a  public  grievance.  It  is 
said  that  on  this  occasion  she  threw  herself  at  the 
feet  of  the  king  and  shed  a  flood  of  tears,  beseeching 
him  not  to  sacrifice  her  and  himself  to  his  affection 
for  his  brother :  but  this  time  she  kneeled  and  wept  in 
vain. 

It  is  curious,  that  during  that  grotesque  and  sanguin- 
ary farce,  the  Popish  plot,  which  threatened  even  the 
person  of  the  queen,  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  not  only 
escaped  its  all-devouring  snares,  but  enjoyed  a  kind  of 
popularity,  so  that  when  a  member  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons rose  up  to  move  an  address,  "That  she  should 
be  sent  out  of  the  kingdom,"  the  purport  of  his  speech 
was  no  sooner  guessed  than  it  was  drowned  in  a  tumult 
of  dissentient  voices.  One  part  of  this  pretended  plot 
being  the  murder  of  the  king,  she  had  an  excuse 
for  being  on  the  opposite  side.  It  is  even  said  that  at 
the  trial  of  poor  old  Lord  Stafford  she  was  in  the  court 
dealing  out  smiles  and  bon-bons  to  the  witnesses  against 
him. 

It  is  said  in  the  life  of  Lord  Russell,  that  the  old  Earl 
of  Bedford  offered  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  one  hun- 
dred thousand  pounds  to  procure  the  pardon  of  his  son, 
and  that  she  refused  it.  As  she  was  never  known  to  re- 
sist a  bribe,  it  is  more  probable  that  she  did  make  the 
attempt  and  failed.  In  this  instance,  as  in  some  others, 
the  Duke  of  York's  influence  outweighed  hers. 

In  the  year  1681  her  son,  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  then 


APPENDIX. 


397 


about  nine  years  old,  was  installed  a  Knight  of  the 
Garter.  At  this  period,  and  previously,  the  Knights  of 
the  Garter  wore  the  blue  ribbon  round  the  neck  with 
the  George  appendant  on  the  breast  ;  but  the  duke's 
mother  having  some  time  after  his  installation  introduced 
him  to  the  king  with  his  ribbon  over  his  left  shoulder, 
and  the  George  appendant  on  the  right  side,  His  ^Majesty 
was  so  much  pleased  with  the  alteration,  that  he  com- 
manded it  in  future  to  be  adopted.  Thus  the  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth  has  some  claim  to  be  considered  as  joiut 
patroness  of  the  most  noble  order  of  the  Garter  with  the 
Countess  of  Salisbury  of  chivalrous  memory,  whose  face 
could  not  have  been  more  fair,  and  whose  fame,  by  all 
accounts,  was  not  much  fairer. 

About  the  same  time  another  secret  treaty  with  France 
was  arranged  in  the  boudoir  of  Madame  la  Duchesse. 
The  principal  article  of  this  treaty  was,  that  Charles 
should  never  more  call  a  parliament,  and  should  receive 
on  that  condition  two  millions  of  livres  for  one  year,  and 
a  million  and  a  half  for  two  years  more.  Lord  Hyde, 
Lord  St.  Albans,  and  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  were 
alone  privy  to  this  infamous  bargain,  which  was  man- 
aged verbally,  but  the  proofs  of  which  remain  in  Baril- 
lon's  despatches.  It  is  well  known  that  after  this  treaty, 
or  rather  treason^  had  been  consummated,  Charles  dis- 
solved his  parliament  and  never  assembled  another.  It 
was  a  little  later,  about  1682,  that  Louis,  being  resolved 
to  seize  on  Luxembourg,  the  key  to  the  Netherlands  and 
Germany,  prevailed  on  Charles,  through  the  influence 
and  caresses  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  to  look  on 
quietly  while  this  piece  of  arbitrary'  injustice  was  perpe- 
trated against  the  faith  of  treaties  and  against  the  interest 
of  England.  Charles  received  ;^30o,ooo  for  his  passive 
treachery.  The  amoimt  of  the  gratification  which  re- 
warded the  duchess  is  not  ascertained;  but  she  ever  after- 
wards piqued  herself  on  this  affair  of  Luxembourg,  and 
boasted  of  it  as  the  last  and  best  piece  of  service  she  had 


398  APPENDIX. 

rendered  the  court  of  France.  *  In  the  midst  of  these 
vile  state  intrigues,  the  interior  of  Whitehall  is  described 
by  contemporaries  as  a  scene  ' '  of  inexpressible  luxury 
and  profaneness,  gaming  and  all  dissoluteness,"  but  the 
under  current  was  bitterness,  terror  and  gloom.  Charles, 
who  had  been  so  remarkable  for  his  easy  gaiety,  had 
latterl)-  sunk  into  a  kind  of  melancholy  apathy  ;  the 
duchess  became  alarmed  b}-  his  illness  and  her  own  un- 
popularity. She  changed  her  conduct  after  the  dissolu- 
tion of  the  last  parliament,  turned  against  the  popular 
part}',  connected  her  interests  with  those  of  the  Duke  of 
York,  and  brought  Lord  Sunderland  again  into  the  ad- 
ministration ;  in  fact,  Sunderland,  whose  insinuating 
arts  few  could  withstand,  found  means  to  work  on  her 
feelings  and  her  fears.  He  began  by  proving  to  her  that 
her  son  could  never  hope  to  succeed  to  the  crown,  but 
that,  through  his  (Lord  Sunderland's)  interest  and  that 
of  the  Duke  of  York,  she  might  gain  an  immense  heredi- 
tary settlement  for  him.  The  duke  was  not  wanting  in 
promises  on  his  part,  so  that  on  one  occasion,  in  1684, 
when  the  duchess  was  seized  with  a  sudden  indisposition 
(the  consequence  of  that  habitual  goiirmandise  in  which 
she  indulged),  she  called  the  king  to  her  and  made  him 
swear,  in  case  of  her  death,  to  stand  by  his  brother.  On 
her  recovery,  the  Duke  of  York  sent  to  thank  her  for  a 
proof  of  interest,  which  appeared  at  least  sincere  ;  yet  he 
contrived  to  delay,  and  at  length  to  evade,  the  promised 
settlement  on  her  sou.  Meantime  the  king's  spirits  de- 
clined ;  nothing,  as  it  was  commonly  said,  went  near  his 
heart,  for  in  truth  he  had  no  heart  ;  but  the  inextricable 
web  of  difficulties  in  which  his  duplicity  and  extrava- 
gance had  involved  him  began  to  prey  on  his  mind.  He 
had  been  false  to  all,  he  was  mistrusted  by  all;  insignifi- 
cant abroad,  contemptible  at  home  :  while  Louis  XIV., 


*  Buraet,  vol.  ii.,  p.  181.  Dalrymple,  vol.  i.,  Appendix  to  Book  I. 
Evelyu,  vol.  i.,  p.  537. 


APPENDIX. 


399 


sick  of  his  vacillating  and  tired  of  his  complaints  and  his 
mean  importunities,  not  only  withheld  his  pension  and 
intrigued  with  his  subjects  against  him,  but  actually 
threatened  to  publish  through  Europe  the  articles  of 
their  secret  treaties,  which  would  not  only  have  rendered 
him  detestable  in  the  eyes  of  all  men,  but  might  have 
proved  fatal  to  his  crown  and  life  ;  *  his  father  had  lost 
his  head  for  much  less  cause.  Charles  was  struck  at 
once  with  terror  and  rage  to  be  thus  over-reached  ;  his 
gaiety  forsook  him,  and  with  it  his  good-breeding  and 
good  nature,  wliich  were  mere  manner  and  temperament. 
To  his  natural  laziness  was  added  extreme  depression  of 
spirits,  and  a  sudden  and  unusual  fit  of  jealousy  increased 
his  ill-humor.  In  1684,  the  Grand-Prieur  de  Vendome,t 
brother  to  the  Duke  of  Vendome,  came  over  from  France 
on  some  secret  mission,  and  had  particular  orders  to  in- 
gratiate himself  with  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth.  This 
Grand-Prieur  appears  to  have  possessed  in  himself  a  rare 
union  of  qualifications  ;  he  was  prelate,  statesman,  sol- 
dier, courtier,  and  man  of  gallantry;  very  handsome,  and 
very  slovenly.  He  began  by  losing  his  money  to  the 
duchess,  and  then,  under  pretence  of  state  affairs,  was  so 
frequently  closeted  with  her,  that  the  king,  roused  from 
his  usual  indolence  and  indifference,  ordered  the  Grand- 
Prieur  to  quit  England.  Yet  his  behavior  to  the  duchess 
at  this  very  time  displayed  an  increase  of  fondness  and 
confidence,  and  whether  there  were  any  real  grounds  for 
this  suspicion  remains  doubtful. 

Such  was  at  this  period  the  alteration  in  Charles's 
spirits  and  deportment,  that  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth 
beg^an  to  tremble  for  him  and  for  herself.  When  she 
was  about  to  make  a  journey  to  Bath,  whither  Sir 


*  Barillon,  the  French  envoy,  confesses  that  he  had  a  discretionary 
power  to  threaten  Charles  with  this  discovery,  but  was  to  keep  it  in 
reserve  as  a  stroke  of  thunder. 

t  He  was  the  grandson  of  Henri  Quatre,  consequently  cousin  to  the 
king     He  came  over  first  in  1680. 


400 


APPENDIX. 


Charles  Scarborough  (the  court  physician)  had  ordered 
her,  Lord  Sunderland  stopped  her  departure,  by  asking 
her  if  she  could  be  such  a  fool  as  to  let  the  king  feel  he 
could  do  without  her?  Aud  taking  advantage  of  her 
fondness  for  her  lover,*  his  fertile  brain  and  restless 
spirit,  which  seem  to  have  "  toiled  in  frame  of  vil- 
lainies," conceived  a  new  plot;  he  persuaded  the  duchess 
that  the  only  means  of  restoring  the  king  to  health  and 
spirits  was  to  prevail  on  him  to  change  his  measures  en- 
tirely, reconcile  himself  to  the  parliament  and  people, 
banish  the  Duke  of  York,  and  recall  Monmouth,  t  The 
duchess  listened  ;  always  impotent  in  mind,  facile  as  she 
was  headstrong,  and  without  any  fixed  principle  of  con- 
duct, except  that  of  securing  the  king's  affections  and 
her  own  power  over  him,  she  readily  lent  herself  to 
Sunderland's  projects  ;  but  in  the  very  commence- 
ment of  this  new  intrigue  Charles  was  seized  with 
apoplexy. 

It  must  be  allowed  that  the  deportment  of  the  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth,  in  his  last  moments,  considering  her 
situation  and  her  tenets  of  belief,  did  her  some  honor. 
She  had  often  been  compared  to  Alice  Pierce  in  the 
lampoons  of  the  days,  but  her  conduct  was  very  different. 
It  was  made  a  subject  of  reproach  to  her,  that  she  was 
found  seated  by  the  king's  pillow  and  supporting  his 
head,  where  the  queen  ought  to  have  been  (but  where 
the  queen  was  not)\  and  it  was  considered  "  a  piece  of 
indecency"  that  she  had  desired  Bishop  Kenn  to  take 
the  Duke  of  Richmond  to  his  father  to  receive  his  last 
blessing  ;  |  but  her  solicitude  on  these  points  does  not 


*  The  expressions  used  by  Daln-niple. 

t  Lord  Sunderland's  aim  was  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  Prince 
of  Orange,  whose  party  was  becoming  every  day  stronger  in  England. 

X  The  good  bishop  was  much  blamed  for  his  compliance. — Vide 
Burnet.  This  was  the  same  bishop  who,  when  Charles  II.  lodged  at 
his  house  at  Winchester,  refused  to  admit  Nell  Gwyn  into  it.  The 
king  put  himself  into  a  passion  ;  but  Nell  defended  the  bishop,  ob- 


APPENDIX. 


401 


surely  deserve  so  hard  a  construction.  On  the  second 
day  of  the  king's  seizure,  Barillon  writes,  that  he  found 
the  duchess  in  her  apartment  overwhehned  with  afflic- 
tion, but  that  instead  of  speaking  of  her  own  grief  or  her 
own  affairs,  she  appeared  extremely  anxious  for  the  state 
of  the  king's  soul.  "  Nobody,"  said  she,  "tells  him  of 
his  condition,  or  speaks  to  him  of  God.  I  cannot  with 
decency  enter  the  room  ;  the  Duke  of  York  thinks  only 
of  his  own  affairs.  Go  to  him,  I  conjure  yon,  and  warn 
him  to  think  of  what  can  be  done  to  save  the  king's 
soul  ;  lose  no  time,  for,  if  it  be  deferred  ever  so  little,  it 
will  be  too  late  ! ' ' 

She  had  all  along  been  in  the  secret  of  Charles's  real 
sentiments  with  regard  to  religion,  and  a  priest  being 
brought,  he  died  in  the  profession  of  the  Catholic  faith. 
He  frequently  recommended  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth 
and  her  son  to  his  successor,  "In  terms,"  says  Burnet, 
"  as  melting  as  he  could  fetch  out ; "  and  after  his  death 
the  first  visit  of  condolence  which  James  the  Second  paid 
was  to  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  ;  the  second  to  the 
Queen  Dowager,  whose  grief,  in  truth,  was  the  more 
apocryphal  of  the  two. 

Soon  after  the  death  of  Charles  the  Second  the  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth  retired  to  France,  carrying  with  her  a 
large  sum  in  money  and  jewels  ;  and  from  this  time, 
though  her  life  was  prolonged  be}  ond  the  usual  term  of 
humanity,  very  few  particulars  are  known  concerning 
her.  She  lived  at  first  with  considerable  splendor,  but 
lost  immense  sums  at  pla}'  ;  and  her  pension  from  Eng- 
land being  stopped,  it  appears  that  she  was  reduced  to 
great  difficulties.  She  came  over  to  England  m  1699, 
and  found  her  son,  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  married  to 
Lady  Anne  Brudenell,  widow  of  Lord  Bellas^  s,  and  the 
father  of  three  children.    She  returned  to  Paris,  but 


served  that  he  only  did  his  duty,  and  retired  voluntarily  to  another 
lodging. 

26 


402 


APPENDIX. 


came  over  again  in  1715  and  was  presented  to  the  Prin- 
cess of  Wales,  afterwards  Queen  Caroline.*  Her  object, 
it  is  said,  was  to  obtain  a  pension  from  the  English  gov- 
ernment :  if  she  had  the  assurance  to  ask  it,  apparently 
the  government  had  not  the  assurance  to  grant  it.  In 
1 718  she  was  a  poor  pensioner  on  the  French  court,  and 
was  living  on  an  allowance  of  eight  hundred  pounds  a 
year.    She  died  at  Paris  in  1734,  aged  87. 

*  At  the  first  drawing-room  held  by  George  I.,  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth,  the  Countess  of  Dorchester,  ci-devant  mistress  of  James 
II.  ;  and  the  Countess  of  Orkney,  mistress  of  William  III.,  found 
themselves  standing  together  in  the  royal  presence.  "Good  Lord!" 
exclaimed  Lady  Dorchester,  whose  impudence  equalled  her  wit,  "  who 

would  have  thought  that  we  three  should  have  met  here !  " 

They  bad  all  been  raised  to  the  peerage  on  the  same  terms. 


INDEX  OF  NAMES. 


Anne  of  Austria,  88 
Arlington,  Earl  of,  164,  165 
Arlington,  Countess  of,  166 
Armine,  Susan.    See  Bellasys. 
Arran,  Earl  of,  118,  187,  198,  201 
Arscot,  Duke  d',  94 

Bagot,  Miss,  248,  252,  253 
Bardou,  Miss,  239,  245 
Barker,  Mrs.,  263 
Barry,  Mrs.,  279 
Batteville,  Baron  de,  57 

Bellasys,   Lady,   372,   373,   374,    375,  376,  377,  378, 
379 

Bellenden,  Miss;  239,  245 

Blague,  Miss,  144,  146,  149,  151,  155,  248 

Boynton,  Miss,  248,  280,  317,  365 

Brice,  Don  Gregorio,  175 

Brinon,  45,  46,  47,  49 

Brisacier,  144,  155,  248 

Brissac,  Duke  de,  228,  229,  230 

Bristol,  Earl  of,  195 

Brooks,  Misses,  122,  196,  197 

Brounker,  294,  295,  296,  297 

Buckingham,  Duchess  of,  338,  339 

Buckingham,  Duke  of,  116,  161,  162,  336,  338 

Bussy,  33,  196 

Cameran,  Count,  52,  53,  54,  55,  56 
Carlingford,  Lord,  346,  348 

(403) 


404 


INDEX  OF  NAMES. 


Carnegy.    See  Southesk 

Castlemaiue,  Countess  of,  121,  136,  166,  169,  173, 
180,  183,  196,  201,  282,  285,  333,  335,  341,  345, 

350,  352,  355.  357 
Charles  II.,  110,  iii,  112,  113 

Chesterfield,  Countess  of,  122,  167,  181,  183,  184, 
I95>  198.  199.  203,  206,  208,  215,  217,  219,  221, 
227,  312 

Chesterfield,   Earl  of,   182,  184,    198,  199,  203,  208, 

210,  213,  219,  224,  226 
Chifiinch,  357 

Churchill,  Miss,  312,  314,  319,  320 
Churchill,  Duke  of  Marlborough,  350,  351 
Clarendon,  Earl  of,  114,  115 
Cleveland.    See  Castlemaiue 
Comminge,  Mons.  de,  171 

Conde,   Prince  de,  86,   87,   88,  90,  91,  95,  96,  102, 

105,  175,  176,  177 
Cornwallis,  Lord,  237 
Crofts,  202,  348 
Cromwell,  Oliver,  109 

Davis,  Mrs.,  354,  355 
Denham,  Sir  John,  196,  218 
Denham,  Lady,  197,  207,  215,  218 
Dorset,  Duke  of,  213,  215,  351 
Dongon,  250 

Dowager  Queen.    See  Henrietta 
Duncan,  151 

Etheredge,  Sir  George,  213,  215 

Falmouth,  Earl  of,  117,  160,  170,  171,  186,  189,  233, 
253 

Feraulas,  324 
Feversham,  Earl  of,  250 
Fielding,  Miss,  248 


INDEX  OF  NAMES. 


405 


Fiesque,  Countess,  130 
Flamarens,  231,  232,  239 
Fox,  Sir  Stepheu,  238 
Francisco,  198 

Gabour}^,  loi 

Garde,  Miss  de  la,  239,  241,  245 

Gibbs,  Miss,  365 

Gloucester,  Duke  of,  iii 

Grammont,  Mareclial  de,  175,  329 

Guise,  Duke  of,  152,  172 

Gwyn,  Nell,  284,  351,  352,  353,  354 

Hall,  Jacob,  136,  284 

Hamilton,  Anthony.    See  Biographical  Sketch  I. 
Hamilton,  George,  166,   182,  183,  184,  198,  200,  201, 
202,  203,  205,  206,  208,  209,  219,  227,  300,  301, 

302,  342,  343,  344,  346,  365 
Hamilton,  James,  118,  342 

Hamilton,  Miss,   140,   141,   143,   145,   147,   148,  149, 

150,  151,  153,  154,  156,  157,  158,  159,  160,  161, 
180,  181,  217,  218,  232,  239,  280,   297,  300,  301, 

303,  304,  308,  310,  321,  323,  332,  341,  365 
Henrietta  Maria,  Queen  Dowager,  119,  125,  177 
Hobart,  Miss,  248,  251,  252,  253,  259,  260,  261,  267, 

268,  269,  270,  271,  272,  273,  313,  314,  315 
Hopital,  Mademoiselle  de  1',  331 
Howard,  Henry,  159 
Howard,  Thomas,  137 
Humieres,  Marechal  de,  92,  94 
Hughes,  Mrs.,  306,  307 

Hyde,  Anne,  Duchess  of  York,   114,   124,  173,  185, 

189,  311 
Hyde,  Mrs.,  135 


Jennings,  Miss,  253,  256,  281,  286,  291,  365 
Jermyn,  120,  137,  186,  188,  287,  364 


406 


INDEX  OF  NAMEvS. 


Jones,  Earl  of  Ranelagh,  131 

Katherine,  Queen  Infanta  of  Portugal,  112,  122,  i 

168,  338,  340 
Killegrew,  187,  242,  244,  276,  277,  278,  335,  337 
Kirk,  Miss.    .S"^'^'  Warmestre. 

La  Motte,  94 

Lawson,  Mrs.,  369,  370,  371 

lycly,  Sir  Peter,  217 

Leopold,  Archduke,  90 

Levingston,  Miss,  248 

L'Orme,  Madame  de,  228 

Louis  XIII.,  35 

Louis  XIV.,  105 

Lussan,  Mons.  de,  95,  96 

Lyttelton,  Sir  Charles,  255,  265,  365 

Madame  Royale,  60 
Marshall,  Mrs.,  263 
Matta,  61,  78,  84 
Mazarin,  Cardinal,  88,  103 
Mazarin,  Peter,  103 
Melo,  Francisco  de,  123 
Meneville,  Madame,  107 
Middlesex.    See  Dorset 

Middleton,  122,  132,  138,  139,  141,  143,  158,  181 

Monmouth,  Duke  of,  332,  334 

Monmouth,  Duchess  of,  334 

Montagu,  Edward,  318 

Montagu,  Ralph,  138,  318 

Montmorency,  96 

Motte,  Houdancourt,  Mademoiselle  de,  107 
Muskerry,  Lord,  145,  154,  304,  308 
Muskerry,  Lady,  143,  145,  149,  308,  309,  310 

Newcastle,  Duchess  of,  154 


INDEX  OF  NAMES. 


407 


Olonne,  Mademoiselle,  130 
Orange,  Princess  of,  112,  121 
Orleans,  Madame,  Duchess  of,  330 
Ormond,  Dnke  of,  115,  236 
Ossory,  Earl  of,  118 
Oxford,  Earl  of,  263,  264 

Panetra,  Donna,  123 

Portsmouth,  Duchess  of,  380,  381,  382,  383,  384,  385, 
386,  387,  388,  389,  390,  391,  392,  393,  394,  395, 

396,  397.  398,  399.  400,  401,  402 
Poussatin,  174,  177,  178 
Pralin,  Du  Plessis,  36,  10 1 

Price,  Miss,  150,  151,  155,  248,  249,  250,  251,  267, 

274,  278,  283,  286,  290,  292,  293,  295,  296 
Progers,  Edward,  247 

Queroualle,  Louise  de.    See  Portsmouth. 

Rawlings,  Giles,  138 
Richelieu,  Cardinal,  35 

Richmond,   Duke  of,  240,  241,   357,  358,   359,  360, 
365 

Richmond,  Duchess  of.    See  Stewart 
Robarts,  Lady,  193,  194,  195,  211 
Robarts,  Lord,  193,  194 

Rochester,  Earl  of,  213,  214,  249,  253,  259,  265,  275, 

289,  365 
Rupert,  Prince,  147,  305,  306 
Russell,  John,  157,  179,  180 
Russell,  William,  157 

St.  Albans,  Earl  of,  116,  120 

St.  Chaumont,  Mme.  de,  321,  330 

St.  Evremond,  33,  127,  129,  131,  158,  161,  211,  366 

St.  Germain,  Madame  de,  61,  64,  70,  71,  74 

Saucourt,  331 


408 


INDEX  OF  NAMES. 


Sedley,  Sir  Charles,  213,  215 
Senantes,  Madame  de,  62,  71 
Senantes,  Marquis  of,  73 

Shrewsbury,   Countess  of,    122,    136,    137,   138,  216, 

234,  338 

Silvius,  Sir  Gabriel,  245 
Southesk,  Lady,  190,  233 

Stewart,  Miss,  133,  161,  202,  258,  335,  357,  365 
Suse,  Countess  de  la,  231 
Sydney,  Robert,  119,  315 
Sylva,  Don  Pedro,  123 

TaafFe,  Lord,  240,  243,  244 

Talbot,  Duke  of  Tyrconnel,  187,  188,  192,  233,  234, 

235,  280,  365 
Talbot,  Peter,  235 
Talbot,  Thomas,  235 
Tambonneau,  231,  232,  233 
Tanes,  Count  de,  60 
Taurauvedez,  123 

Temple,  Miss,  235,  255,  259,  267,  365 
Termes,  143,  148,  152,  324 
Thanet,  Lord,  148 
Thomas,  Prince,  36 
Toulongeon,  159,  161,  367 
Turenne,  Marechal  de,  56,  91,  93 

Vendome,  Caesar  de,  43 
Villeroy,  loi 

Warmestre,  Miss,  132,  139,  239,  244 
Wells,  Miss,  246,  247,  248,  256 

Wetenhall,  Mrs.,  297,  298,   299,  300,  301,  302,  308, 
310.  342 

Yarborough,  Sir  Thomas,  144,  249 
York,  James,  Duke  of,  92,  113,  156,  185,   190,  191, 
194,  198,  217,  256,  310 


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